


Tis the Season for Lukanette Love

by Quickspinner



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Kissing, Meet-Cute, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Sibling Bonding, So many meet-cutes, Tumblr Prompt, mlholiday2k19, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 30,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21677485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner
Summary: A collection of Lukanette one shots for the ML Holiday Prompts on tumblr. These won't be connected unless noted in the author notes. Hope they give you a smile this season! (I won't be able to do all of them, but I'll do my best!)
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 125
Kudos: 425





	1. 1. Snowflakes

"Oh, it looks like we're going to get a big snowstorm tonight," Marinette said, looking at her phone.

“No way,” Luka groaned, grabbing the phone from her and and staring at the forecast. Then he winced in embarrassment and handed it back. "Sorry. It's just...I _hate_ snow."

Marinette took the phone back mechanically, staring at him. "Hate snow? Why?"

Luka gave her a rueful smile. "Downsides of living on a boat. Too much snow on the deck makes it top-heavy and affects the stability, so Juleka and I are stuck shoveling it off until it stops. Not to mention my mom's uh, pro-mess philosophy means there's a lot of crap to collect the snow, and we have to knock it off that and then shovel it off the deck..." He sighed. "I'm sorry Marinette, I'm having a great time, really, but I'd better go home, the more I can get off the deck before the snow starts, the less stuff will be in the way for us later."

"Oh," she said, and her disappointment made it even harder for him to leave. He'd finally gotten a real chance to take her out, and now the stupid weather was out to get him. He took her hands and squeezed him.

"I'm so sorry. I hope we can do this again really soon," he said, hoping she would see how much he really meant it. She was good at understanding him.

"I hope so too," Marinette smiled, and his heart stuttered because it looked like she really meant it too.

* * *

"This sucks," Juleka complained.

"Shut up and shovel," Luka grumbled.

"Someone's moody," Juleka huffed.

"You mean besides you for once?" Luka shot back, and then sighed, straightening and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, let's just...work on opposite sides for a while?"

There were just things you got used to coping with when you lived in such close quarters, or else they would have all murdered each other long ago, so Juleka didn't put up a fight, just grunted assent and clomped off towards the front of the boat.

Luka took a couple more (very cold) calming breaths, and started working again, thinking very uncharitable thoughts about snow and boats and sisters and mothers with weird hangups about getting rid of useless crap.

He snapped upright at the sound of his name being called from the shore, whipping around to find the source of that familiar voice.

"Hi," Marinette waved from the far end of the gangplank.

"Marinette?" he said, going to the rail. "What are you doing here?"

"I just thought—maybe you could use some help?" When Luka didn't answer, she added, "I brought stuff to make hot chocolate for after. The good stuff." She hefted her shopping bag. "Can I...come aboard?"

Luka snapped out of his stupor, leaving his shovel leaning against the rail. "Yes, of course, please come on, just hold the rail and watch your step, the deck gets kind of icy in this weather." He met her halfway across the gangplank, giving her his hand to make sure she got across safely—just in time, as it turned out, because one foot went out from under her and he was just in time to catch her around the waist, the ice grips fastened over his shoes giving him just enough traction to keep them both upright. He walked her the rest of the way onto the deck with one arm around her waist.

"Sorry," she said, clearly embarrassed. "I came to help and here I am making work instead."

Luka took her bag and ran it down to the kitchen, popping into their winter supply chest for another pair of ice grips, which he adjusted to fit over Marinette's shoes. "There," he said, helping her stand. "That should be a little better."

"Thanks," she said gratefully. "So um—can I help?"

Luka looked her over. She seemed dressed warmly enough, with a jacket and gloves that seemed like they would hold up well enough against even wet snow. He smiled at her and handed her a large brush. "Can you brush the snow off the crates and tables? I'll come behind you and shovel it over the side."

It was really cute, the way she brightened up, excited to be of use. Luka stretched his back for a moment and then picked up his shovel with a resigned sigh, but it was hard to be grumpy with Marinette around. And it had to mean something that she was here even after he'd had to cut their date short, right? She'd gone to a lot of trouble to come spend more time with him.

Then again Marinette was kind and helpful by nature, and the thought of he and Juleka shoveling snow all afternoon might have been enough incentive on its own. He shouldn't read too much into it.

"Wow, this is heavy," Marinette gasped as she kept sweeping the various clutter they hadn't managed to move off he deck. "No wonder you're so strong."

Luka blushed, though when he glanced at her she wasn't paying any attention, and didn't seem to realize she'd said anything worth noting.

"There's always work on the boat," Luka said as casually as he could. "It's a pretty good workout. Kind of like hauling flour sacks, I imagine." He grinned at her and she looked up to smile back at him.

She was beautiful in the snow. The white all around them seemed to make her eyes bluer and her cheeks pinker and her lips—he looked away quickly, swallowing hard, mentally cursing the snow again as he shoved his shovel under it. If it hadn't been for this damn snow he'd have spent the last hour showing her a good time and maybe he'd actually have had a shot at kissing those lips sometime tonight. At least it seemed like the snow falling had lightened up; it had been building up faster than he and Juleka could get rid of it up until now, but maybe they had a chance of getting ahead if the snowfall was starting to slacken.

Marinette yelped and danced in place for a moment. Luka looked up at her and she gave him a rueful smile. "Sorry. I swept some right onto my feet and a little went down inside my boots. I'll be okay."

"You sure?" he asked, shoveling on autopilot. "If you're cold, you can go below. Not that it's especially warm down there, honestly."

"Really?"

He glanced up at her and shrugged. "It's not too bad. We have a lot of blankets." He winked at her. "And a really cute girl brought hot chocolate makings by, so there's that to look forward to."

She blushed and it was adorable. He shoveled his way to her and then straightened and leaned on his shovel for a moment, just smiling down at her. "I know this isn't the most fun thing you can be doing tonight," he said, "But I'm really glad you came, Marinette. I was really looking forward to going out with you and I hate that we had to call it early."

"Me too," she sighed regretfully. "But at least I get to spend time with you, even if it is a little cold."

He licked his lips nervously and parted them to speak, but instead he found he was leaning into her, eyes fixed on the curve of her lips. Luka caught himself and straightened. "Ah, sorry."

"No, what were you going to say?" she wanted to know, and Luka couldn't keep back a surprised laugh. She was just too cute. When she tilted her head in confusion, he just couldn't resist.

"I wasn't going to say anything, Marinette," he smiled, tucking a piece of hair back behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her cheek, bending over her slightly. Her eyes widened and he thought she understood. He started to turn away to get back to work, but Marinette caught hold of his jacket and pulled him back. Her lips parted for a moment, and then pressed together, and then she rose up on her toes, pulling him down, and kissed him.

Or rather, smushed her lips against his. It was clear she didn't know what she was doing, and though he was touched that she would choose him for what had to be one of her first kisses, if not her very first, he couldn't help chuckling against her lips. She pulled back, clearly embarrassed. "I'm sorry—" she began, and Luka could sense the babble coming and put his hands on her face to stop it.

"You're fine," he told her, amusement and affection in his voice. "Just...slow down a bit." He showed her what he meant, leaning in with his eyes locked on hers, closing them only at the last second, letting her angle to meet him, pressing his lips to hers and then sliding them softly to press a slightly different spot.

Her eyes stayed closed for a moment and the now thickly-falling snowflakes gathered at the ends of her lashes and in her hair. "Oh," she said faintly, opening her eyes.

"You want to try again?" he offered, trying to contain laughter that wanted to bubble up from pure joy.

"Yeah," she said, and then added, "If you don't mind. But um, could you—could you bend down?"

He did, gladly, and she leaned up, and she was so close he could feel her breath across his lips when suddenly every nerve in his body yelped COLD and he gasped, eyes flying back open to see Juleka standing there with an annoyed expression, holding the snow shovel she had just emptied over the two of them.

"Shovel now. Smooch later," she said grumpily, and then stumped away.

Marinette whimpered, scraping snow off the back of her neck where it was bare between her pigtails. Luka moved quickly, trying not to think about the trickles of ice water sliding under his hoodie as he unwound Marinette's scarf for her and shook it out, but it was already wet and starting to refreeze. Looking at the suddenly shivering girl, Luka gave up and sent Marinette downstairs to take off her wet things and start the hot chocolate, while he finished clearing the deck and contemplated pushing his sister into the Seine.

When he finally did get to kiss her again later, curled together under a blanket below deck on the couch with no grumpy sister in sight, she proved she was a fast learner, and she tasted like chocolate.


	2. 3. Fireplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has Plans, and she is not going to let Luka's reluctance to start a fire derail them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is both a little silly and a little suggestive, but hopefully it's still fun.

“You realize,” Luka said, hands on his hips, inspecting the fireplace in front of him, “I have never actually used one of these things. I have, in fact, spent my entire life trying to _avoid_ fire. The most common side effects of fire on a boat are death by fire, and death by drowning. You know, because you’re trying to get away from the fire.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Boats don’t have fireplaces. Houses have fireplaces to keep the fire where it’s supposed to be. Houses in the mountains have fireplaces so the people in them won’t freeze to death.”

“This place has central heat and a hot tub,” Luka pointed out. “I think we’re safe.” It was a nice place, he had to admit, looking out of the floor to ceiling windows at the snow-covered landscape beyond. And private, surrounded by woods and miles from anywhere else. He didn’t want to think about how much a place like this cost to rent. Marinette had told him it was a gift and not to ask, so he hadn’t.

Marinette turned a pout on him. Luka sighed, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “That doesn’t teach me how to build a fire, Marinette, it just makes me feel guilty for not knowing.”

“But if someone here did know how to build a fire, you wouldn’t be opposed to one?” Marinette said hopefully. 

Luka ran his fingers through his hair. “I mean, no? It makes me a little nervous but surely if it were that easy to burn the house down they would come with a warning or something. Can’t we just...not have a fire though?”

The look she gave him told him clearly that no, no they could not. 

“This is my honeymoon,” she said firmly. “And I am going to sit in front of a fireplace and drink champagne and cuddle with my brand new stupidly hot husband while it snows outside like the cover of a dime store romance novel, and then said brand new stupidly hot husband is going to carry me to bed and make love to me until I can’t move, and it will all be perfect and exactly like I dreamed of.”

“Okay,” Luka coughed, turning red. “I’m on board with...most of that. It just might have helped if you had let me in on this apparently very important fantasy ahead of time so that I could have maybe, I dunno, read up on it or something.”

Marinette gave him a smug look, walked over to the fireplace, and hit a switch next to it. For a moment nothing happened, and then with a quiet _fwoom_ , flames danced up around the logs in the fireplace. “Did you really think I didn’t plan for this?”

“You enjoy torturing me, don’t you,” Luka sighed, covering his face with his hand.

“Hush. You go get the champagne. Oh, and the chocolate strawberries. It should all be in the fridge. I’m going to go take this off and find the robes and the fluffy rug I packed. I expect to be in front of that fireplace shipping champagne, being fed strawberries, and wearing nothing but a silk robe exactly at sunset, which, you’ll notice, we are perfectly positioned to watch.” She held out her arms toward the big windows

Luka swallowed and blew out a breath. “Okay, you really do make the best plans,” he admitted, and then added, “Just for reference, how mad will you be if we don’t actually make it to the bed?”

“I could be convinced to overlook it.” She gave him a coy smile, and then glared at the sky through the great room’s floor to ceiling windows. “But it better snow.” 

Luka caught her hand, spinning her away from the window and into his chest. “If it doesn’t,” he said, in that slow deep voice she loved. “I promise I’ll make sure you’re too busy to notice.”


	3. 4. Ornaments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's having a bit of trouble getting Luka to focus on the gift she brought him.

Anarka didn’t even blink when Marinette popped up on the gangplank. “Here to see Luka? He’s below,” Anarka said, jerking a thumb toward the door. “Go on down.” 

Marinette did, blushing a bit. She’d been dating Luka for a while now, but it still embarrassed her to be called out on it so brazenly. 

She found the downstairs had been rearranged a bit, which wasn’t the least bit uncommon for the chaotic family. There was no room for a real tree, but the Couffaines has used garlands and lights in zigzags to make a picture of a tree on the wall. One of the smaller couches had been moved to face it, and Luka was sitting there. The only light came from the “tree” and a lamp on the table at Luka’s elbow.

As usual he sensed her approach before she could speak and turned to greet her. Marinette felt a shiver as soon as his eyes locked on her. He was feeling emotional tonight, she could tell, and he looked at her with such warmth and affection that her knees went weak. 

He raised one hand and beckoned her to join him, catching her hand as soon as she got close to pull her in. As soon as she was seated he put his arm around her and pressed his nose to her temple.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured. “I’m really glad you’re here.” 

Marinette smiled, and let him pull her snug against his side and take her hand with his free one to hold in their laps. “I like your tree,” she said. “Creative approach.”

“Never let it be said the Couffaines are traditional,” he chuckled. “We just finished decorating it about an hour ago. It always gets to me a little bit, but...more than usual this year.”

“Why?” Marinette asked, moving her inside arm up to his shoulders to toy with his hair. He closed his eyes and hummed contentedly. 

“You see the ornaments?” 

Marinette looked back at the tree, noting the eclectic collection of small ornaments hanging from the garlands, swaying slowly with the gentle rocking on the boat.

“They all have a story,” he told her. “We pick them up on our trips. They’re almost all handmade. You can see some Juleka and I made when we were little, even.” He pointed to an eye of God made of popsicle sticks and yarn dangling from a lower corner. “It’s a great time to remember all the places we’ve been, and all the things that we’ve done together. It’s just...nice. We don’t get to do as many things together as a family as we used to, and...I don’t know, I guess it hit me kind of hard that things will be changing soon. In the next year or so I’ll have to make some kind of decision about what I want to do with my life, and no matter what I decide, everything’s going to change...and it’ll only be a couple more years before Juleka will too. And who knows what Maman will do once we’re out of her hair. We might not be together like this as a family for much longer and that...it scares me, honestly.”

“Slow down,” Marinette said, letting go of his hand to touch his cheek and turn his face towards her. “Isn’t that what you’re always telling me? You still have now.”

“I do,” he agreed, and shifted on the couch to face her a little more. “I have now, and if you’re here I have better things to do than wax nostalgic about the past and stress about the future. Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re—“ she began but he was kissing her before she finished, in his slow, deliberate, gentle way. She loved his quiet passion, the way he always seemed to take his time about it, how special he always made her feel when he looked at her afterwards with that tender expression in his eyes. 

As much as she enjoyed it, she pulled back after just a few moments—to his disappointment, if his subtle pout was any indication.

“I have something for you,” she told him.

Luka laughed softly, “Isn’t it a bit early for that?” he teased. “It’s still almost a month until Christmas.”

“It’s just a little something,” she shrugged.

“Isn’t it always?” he said, clearly fighting a grin. She’d been showering him with little gifts since they started dating, and he liked to tease her about it.

“Maybe I won’t give it to you after all,” she huffed, holding up a small flat package.

“Ah, Marinette,” Luka said, nuzzling her neck. “Don’t be like that.” He reached for the package while she hummed contentedly, but she moved it out of reach. Luka pressed his lips to her neck in a spot where he knew she was ticklish. Marinette gasped and scrunched up her shoulder, drawing her arms in reflexively, and Luka’s quick fingers snagged it out of her hand. “I win,” he smiled against her skin.

He should know better than to poke her competitive streak. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know exactly how to get to him. “You sure?” Marinette teased, turning her face towards him so they were nose to nose, and his breath caught. 

“Definitely,” Luka said, dropping the package in his lap and cupping her cheek. She turned her face just in time for him to miss her lips. “Marinette,” he whined, and she giggled. 

“Marinette,” he said again, this time in his deep, breathy voice, the one that made her name sound like a caress, and the second she turned back to him, his lips were against hers again, gently coaxing, begging her to give in and make out with him. Really, this was positively aggressive for him, and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like it, but she wasn’t about to let this go so easily. 

She pretended to surrender, putting one hand on his knee for a moment, and then she snatched the little package back and pulled away to wave it at him. 

“Yeah,” Luka said breathlessly, grinning with reddened lips, “I think I still won.” 

Marinette nudged her nose against his. “Only because I let you.” 

“Yeah,” Luka sighed, smiling. He moved just enough to kiss her softly. “Thanks for catering to my fragile male ego.” Marinette couldn’t help giggling, the statement was so ridiculous.

“Do you want to see what I made you or not?”

“I don’t know.” Luka slid his fingers around the back of her neck and caressed her jaw with his thumb. “I’m doing pretty well right here. It can’t be better than this.” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t give it to you. You’re already such a sap and this might only make it worse.”

“Guilty,” Luka sighed, sitting back a little, seemingly accepting that he wasn’t going to get anywhere until he did what she wanted. “If I open it, can I kiss you some more after?” 

_ Yes please.  _ “You’ll even have the perfect excuse,” she pointed out.

“Like I need a reason,” he sighed, leaning his elbow on the back of the couch. He blinked at her with eyes that seemed an even deeper blue than usual. 

Marinette was suddenly overcome with fear, that he wouldn’t like it or that it was overstepping. She glanced nervously at the garland tree. She hadn’t realized that it meant so much to him.

Luka saw the shift in her mood and plucked the little package gently out of her fingers. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I haven’t been very gracious. You know I love the things you make me, even when I tease you.”

She fiddled with her fingers in her lap. “It’s okay if you don’t. You don’t have to like everything.”

“But they’re always so thoughtful,” he said as he opened the paper at the end of the package. “I do like them, really.” He paused to lean over and kiss her temple. “And I love knowing that you’ve been thinking about me.”

He tipped the package and let the gift slide into his palm. 

It was a rectangle made up of tiny, shiny beads, mostly black, but with white beads in a pattern that formed a treble clef. A thin silver wire ran through the top row of beads, twisted artistically at the ends around a thin cord that formed a loop at the top. Marinette watched his face as he examined it, and saw the moment he realized what it was. His eyes widened slightly and he looked at her. 

“I hope it’s okay,” she said quietly, fiddling with the end of her pigtail. “I didn’t, um...I didn’t realize your ornaments were so special to you. I didn’t mean to intrude on your tradition.”

“Was this what you were working on that day when I came over and startled you, and you knocked that tray of beads all over the floor?” he asked, looking back at the little rectangle. “They were so tiny. This must have been a lot of work, Marinette.” 

“I didn’t just do this one,” she confessed. “I made some for the others too. It was my first time, but it’s just a different kind of sewing, so it wasn’t too hard, and making the patterns was a little different than designing embroidery, but it was fun. Do...do you like it?” 

Luka leaned over and placed a delicate kiss on her lips. “It’s perfect.” He stood up and went over to the garland tree, taking a hook from an open box sitting on the floor, deliberated for a moment, and then carefully hung the little beaded ornament at eye level. “It’s exactly what it needed,” he said, almost to himself, and then he turned and smiled at Marinette. “A little bit of you.” He looked back at the tree for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. Then he came back to the couch, but before he sat down, he turned off the lamp on the end table. 

He settled next to Marinette and scooted close, putting his arms around her and tugging lightly. She let him pull her down to lean on him, resting her head on his shoulder. One arm held her tightly around the shoulders and the other hand moved to the back of her head, and he leaned his own head on hers. He let out another of those shaky breaths and said quietly, as if reminding himself, “We have now.” 

They sat in silence, the blinking colored lights making patterns on the wall and on their skin. 

Beginning to feel a bit sleepy, Marinette asked, “Did you change your mind about those kisses?” and felt him shake under her with a chuckle.

“Not at all. But...can we stay like this a little longer? I think I...I think I just need another minute, if that’s okay.” He breathed in deep and let it out slowly, and rubbed his cheek against her hair. 

“Of course,” she said, snuggling in closer. “Take as long as you need, Luka.” 

“Can I take forever?” he breathed, so quietly she was sure he didn’t intend her to hear. “Can I just stay here forever?” 

“You could,” she said, and he started slightly. “But that’s an awful long time to wait for kisses.” 

Silence for a beat, and then he started to laugh quietly. He loosened his hold on her, put his fingers under her chin to tip her face up, and kissed her. “You’re right,” he said between kisses. “There’s good things waiting in the future too, after all.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette made these ornaments using peyote stitch. You can google "peyote stitch Christmas ornaments" for examples


	4. 5. Red Noses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a cold day on the Liberty but the show - or at least the practice - must go on.

“I can’t believe you guys are going to practice out here!” Marinette huffed. “It’s freezing. And this wind is awful.”

“Jules and I are used to it, and I don’t think Ivan even feels the cold. I’d never kick you out, Marinette,” Luka said, moving aside some clutter that had migrated onto the stage. “But you know it’s not strictly necessary for you to be out here if you don’t want to be. You’re not a member of the band—I mean, you are,” he backtracked quickly. “You’re absolutely one of us, but I mean—“

“I know what you meant,” Marinette patted his arm. “I guess you’re right. I like being here, though. And...it’s practically the only time I get to see you.”

He smiled. “I’m always glad to spend time with you, Marinette.”

The silence that fell was heavy with things said and unanswered, and Luka mentally cursed his bad habit of speaking more truth than necessary. He hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable. He glanced over to assess the damage as they continued to set up, but she...actually didn’t look too bothered.

She was so adorable in her white hat that seemed to make her blue eyes even brighter, and wrapped in her fluffy pink scarf, which was so thick it covered most of her chin, and her nose—He brought up his hand to cover a chuckle, but Marinette saw and gave him an utterly unintimidating glare. “What are you laughing at now?

“Your nose is red,” he said, and lost his battle with laughter as she groaned. “It’s cute!” he protested when she folded her arms and began to pout. “Aww, Marinette,” he sighed, still chuckling. He leaned forward and kissed the red tip of her nose.

“There,” he smiled, watching with satisfaction the blush spreading across her face. “Now you match.” He winked and turned away, grabbing another box of random crap and stepping down from the stage to find a clear spot for it that wasn’t in their practice space,  _ Mom _ .

Luka turned back to the stage and got the shock of his life as soft pink mittens caught his face and Marinette pressed her lips to his. It only lasted a moment, barely enough time to register what was happening, yet still more than enough time to imprint the feel of her into his brain where he’d surely never get rid of it. He swayed forward after her as she pulled away, and then straightened as his brain came back online, blood rushing to his face.

“There,” she said, eye level with him where she stood on the stage, and even pinker than before. “Now  _ we _ match.”

And heaven knows what Luka would have done if Juleka hadn’t come upstairs just then.


	5. 6. Scarves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has a gift for Luka, but he doesn't seem excited to use it.

“Wow,” Luka breathed, unfolding it across his hands. “It’s beautiful, Marinette.” 

“I took the cable pattern from a book of patterns based on the sweaters worn by Scottish Sailors,” Marinette said, alight with the excitement of gift-giving. “It’s nice and thick, so it should be really warm.” She pouted a bit. “I meant for it to go from blue to black to green from one end to the other, but it took more yarn than I expected, so I had to fade it back to black and then blue on the other end. I thought about striping it with black but that didn’t really look good with the cables, and I could’ve…”

Luka just sat, feeling the squishy soft wool in his hands, and watched her affectionately, wishing he could kiss her as he listened patiently to her rambling. She put so much thought into everything she did. He felt honored that she spent so much time and energy into a gift for him.

When it seemed like she was winding down, Luka stood up, looped the scarf around his neck and then opened his arms. She came into his embrace with a giggle, doing an adorable excited little wiggle in his arms that made the urge to kiss her stronger. “I’m so glad you like it!” she told him, giving him a squeeze around his middle.

“It’s beautiful and thoughtful and one hundred percent Marinette,” he said, laying his cheek on her head for just a moment. “I love it. Thank you.”

They chatted for a while, and when Juleka got home, Marinette gave her a matching scarf in purple and black, which led to more hugs and giggling, a happy Juleka, and an excited Marinette, pretty much all his favorite things in one place. Finally she waved goodbye from the gangplank and headed home.

Luka went downstairs smiling contentedly, folded his new scarf carefully, and placed it on his amp. He picked up his guitar and lay back on his bed, that same smile on his face as he looked at the little square of fabric and played his favorite melody.

* * *

Something was wrong with Marinette. She was putting on a good act, but she was...down somehow. He’d noticed it for a couple days now, but as he sat across the table from her at the band meeting in a fantasy-themed cafe that had clearly been picked by Rose, he was sure something was wrong. Once business had wound down and they were all just joking around, Luka wasn’t surprised when she excused herself from the group.

“I think I’m done for the day too,” he said, getting up at the same time. “I’ll walk you home.” 

She didn’t exactly argue with him, but her shoulders stiffened slightly as he stepped up beside her. “You don’t have to do that,” she said, and there was an edge to her voice Luka didn’t like at all. 

“I’d like to, if it’s okay with you,” he said, adjusting the strap of his guitar case around his chest. His old grey scarf caught in it as always, and he pulled it free absently.

“Y-yeah, okay,” Marinette replied with a terribly fake smile. Luka waved a goodbye to the others as they left. 

When they reached the park by her house, Luka put a hand lightly on her arm and stopped her. “Can we talk?” He waved to a nearby bench that was empty except for a couple of pigeons pecking around in front of it. “You seem kind of sad today,” he added, when she didn’t reply. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Marinette smiled in his general direction. “I don’t need anything.” She glanced at him and then away. 

He put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “You know you don’t have to tell me why if you don’t want to, but I can see that you’re upset.” 

“I’m fine,” she said—almost  _ snapped _ . 

Luka let go of her immediately. “I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m pushing and I said I wouldn’t, I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll go.” 

“Luka, no, wait.” Marinette grabbed his arm with both hands. “It’s not—it’s just not something you can fix. It’ll pass, I’ll get over it. It’s not even that big of a deal, really.” She tried to smile at him, meeting his eyes for the briefest moment, but she looked away quickly.

Luka frowned. She’d barely looked at him all day—yesterday, too, when he’d stopped on his route to say hi, she’d seemed distracted and distant. He sucked in a sharp breath as he realized it. “It’s me, isn’t it,” he said before he could stop himself. “I did something?” Luka could see by the way she cringed and curled inward that he was right, and he felt sick. He never wanted to be someone who made her feel small. 

“It’s nothing Luka,” she said, but she didn’t even sound convinced herself. Just...tired. He felt worse. “It’s stupid and petty and...it’s really not a big deal.” 

“Tell me anyway,” he said firmly. “Marinette, you can’t even look at me right now. Whatever I did, or said, even if it’s small, I want to fix it, if you’ll let me. Please let me try.” He felt torn in two, conflicted between wanting to give her the space and freedom he always tried to offer, and desperately to fix whatever he had damaged between them. 

She jerked her head up quickly. “You can’t fix it, because you didn’t do anything wrong,” she insisted. Marinette sighed, and admitted, “I was just a little sad that you didn’t like the scarf I made you, but I’m being silly. It’s no big deal, I can’t get it right every time. Maybe...you could tell me what you don’t like about it, so I can do better next time.”

“Marinette,” he breathed, his hand going back to her shoulder almost without thought. “But I do like it. I love it, why would you think I didn’t?”

Marinette shook her head. “You don’t have to say that. It’s okay that you don’t. You’re allowed to not like things, of course you are, it would be silly to say you aren’t.”

That hurt. “Marinette,” he said, unable to keep the pain totally out of his voice. She finally looked at him, eyes wide. “When have I ever been less than honest with you?” he asked sadly.

Marinette stared at him for a moment, completely taken off guard by the question—or possibly by the answer. He’d always been honest with her, in the gentlest way possible, even when it hurt him. 

“But,” Marinette said slowly, “You don’t wear it.” 

Luka’s mouth dropped open, and his hand flew to the old worn scarf around his neck. “I didn’t want anything to happen to it,” he said. “I mean, I’ve always got my guitar case and my bag and I didn’t want it getting caught on the straps or snagged on the zippers, and when I’m working I get warm even when it’s cold and I didn’t want to sweat all over it, or get it caught on the bike or marked up with stains...It’s too precious to wear all the time. I was saving it for…” he paused and blinked, realizing he didn’t know what he was saving it for. “A...special occasion?” he finished lamely, and he must’ve looked as dumb as he felt because she tried to cover a giggle. 

“I think I understand,” she said, taking his arm and leading him to the bench. Luka sat down with her and took her hand between both of his. 

“Luka,” she said, and something in her tone made him blush, “How would you feel if you gave someone a song, and they just...put the CD in a glass box on a high shelf and never ever listened to it?”

He took a moment to process that, and suddenly he understood the problem, and how he’d made her feel this last week, constantly choosing his old, boring scarf over hers. “I’m so sorry,” Luka said, squeezing her hand. “I didn’t even think about it like that. It’s just…” He ran one hand through his hair, tugging lightly in his distress. “Songs don’t wear out, and...I just wanted to be able to keep it for—”  _ forever “ _ —for a long time. You made it, and you put so much time and thought into it. I treasured that way more than I wanted to be warm.” He blushed again at the look she gave him, understanding and affectionate.

“I understand why you would feel that way,” she told him. “I won’t bring it up again. You can decide what’s best to do. It’d be incredibly petty of me to give a gift and then dictate how you use it.” She hesitated, and Luka leaned forward slightly, encouraging. “But what would make me happiest is for you to wear it as much as you want, make lots of memories with it, and then bring it to me in tatters and tell me all the stories while I make you a new one.” 

“I...really like that idea, actually.” Luka smiled down at their hands. “Because it means you’ll be in my life for a long time.” He smiled, eyes flicking up to hers. “I’d much rather have you than the scarf.” 

Now she was the one blushing. Luka’s thumb moved absently over her hand. “I was trying to honor the work you had done and the thought you put into it, and I’m sorry that I didn’t do it the right way. Thank you for telling me,” he said, keeping his tone gentle because he could see that she was already beating herself up over getting so upset. “I hate the idea that I could hurt you and you wouldn’t say anything, or that you’d cover it up for the sake of my feelings.” He leaned toward her, lifting one arm, the other hand still holding tight to hers, and she leaned into him, letting him settle his arm around her and hug her to him. He pressed his lips to the top of her head for just a moment, and then just held her until she gently pulled away. 

“It really would be okay,” she said earnestly, “If you didn’t like it. If you ever don’t like something I make, I mean.”

“Marinette,” Luka sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with a fond smile. She looked back at him for a moment almost as if in a daze, and then blushed. “Come on,” he said, standing up and tugging her hand lightly to bring her to her feet. “I’ll walk you the rest of the way home.”


	6. 8. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka's not a fan of this particular tradition.

“So, I was thinking maybe we continue the color scheme here.”

“Okay, I can see that.”

“Think fast, Luka.” Luka jerked his head up and snapped up his hand just in time to catch the object Juleka had pitched at him as she came in.

Sitting next to Marinette with her sketchbook spread across both their laps and listening to her talk about her designs was one of Luka’s favorite things. So he was a little irked that Juleka interrupted them just to mess with him. Sometimes sharing a room with his sister was a pain in the ass. He was even more annoyed when he saw what she’d thrown at him.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he sighed, chucking it back at her. “Get rid of it.” 

“You sure you don’t have any use for it?” Juleka waved the little sprig of leaves and white berries in front of his face. 

Luka scowled and shoved her hand away. “Juleka, no. Get that crap out of here, you know I hate that stuff.”

Juleka cackled in a way that suggested she had accomplished her goal, and tossed the sprig of mistletoe onto her desk. Luka rolled his eyes.

“Why?” Marinette asked, looking at him. 

“Sorry?” he said, turning back to face her.

“Why don’t you like mistletoe?” she asked.

Luka shrugged. “I just think girls have enough pressure to do things they don’t want to do without giving guys an excuse to trap them and assault them or pressure them into a public kiss every holiday season.” He sighed. “But Rose thinks it’s romantic so she’s always sticking it up all over the place.” He aimed a glare at Juleka. “Tell her to keep it out of our room this year, I don’t want it in here. It’s not like you guys ever needed an excuse.”

“Too late,” Juleka said smugly, pointing above him. Luka looked up and sighed in annoyance.

“Aw, seriously, my bed?” Luka grumbled. He stood on his toes and stretched up toward the low ceiling, snagging the stupid plant and pitching it with prejudice into the bin. “It’s my business who I kiss and when,” he huffed, collapsing back onto the bed. “Tell Rose to butt out. Sorry, Marinette, what were you saying? Continuing the color scheme?” He paused, looking at the girl’s flushed cheeks. “Marinette?”

Juleka was laughing hysterically on the other side of the room. Luka rolled his eyes and threw a crumpled piece of paper at her. “Get a grip, Jules, it wasn’t that funny.”

“Nonono,” Juleka said, chortling. “It’s totally that funny.” She managed to stop laughing long enough to grin at him wickedly. “Because Rose didn’t hang that.” Breaking down in giggles again, she got up and walked past them to the door, ruffling Luka’s hair roughly as she went by. “Better luck next time, Mari. It’s a good thing you like ‘em dense.” They could hear her giggling all the way up the stairs as the two of them sat there in stunned silence.

Luka didn’t look at Marinette for a moment, afraid she might combust if he turned too soon, and needing a moment to get his thoughts in order. 

“Um...I’m sorry,” Marinette said at last. “I didn’t...realize how you felt about it. I wasn’t trying to trap you, just…” She sighed. “I don’t know, create an opportunity? That doesn’t sound better, does it?” 

Luka smiled at the floor. “You know you don’t need an excuse.” She squeaked, and he grinned, turning his head slightly to look at her. “If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask. Or hint. Or just think about it too loudly. I would’ve been happy to oblige.” 

Marinette gave him a look. “Well obviously I was thinking about it pretty loudly today, and you never noticed.” She gestured upwards. He wondered how he’d even gotten up there to hang it without him noticing. She was pretty sneaky.

“Sorry,” he smiled, leaning back on his hands. “Guess it was drowned out by the fifty thousand other things always going on in your head. You’ll just have to try asking out loud.”

Marinette let out something like a quiet scream and slapped her hands over her face. “I can’t do that!”

“I thought I made it clear I’m more than happy to kiss you if you ask.” 

“Still!” she shrieked, dropping her hands from her very red face.

Luka leaned toward her, resting one hand on the bed behind her. “I’m telling you I won’t turn you down and you still can’t do it?” he teased.

“No!” she exclaimed.

“Well, I can.” Luka leaned in to look into her eyes, moving one hand to turn her chin toward him and angling his face slightly as his lips curved up. “Can I kiss you, Marinette?” 

She made an inarticulate squeak. Luka chuckled. “Come on, Marinette, all you have say is—” She kissed him, catching him by surprise, and this time he was the one that squeaked, to his embarrassment. It was awkward for about half a second before they both softened and shifted just enough to make it perfect. Marinette sat back just a little, blushing, but also looking a little proud of herself.

“That was nice,” he said, smiling like there weren’t a thousand butterflies rioting in his stomach. “Thank you, Marinette.”

“Maybe—” she cleared her throat. “Maybe we should do it again though. So no one can accuse you of following tradition. It’s only one kiss for getting caught under the mistletoe, right? So we’ll both know it wasn’t because of a trap.” 

“I like the way you think,” Luka grinned, and this time they both moved together. 


	7. 9. Stockings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viperion's fine in the background, but Ladybug has other plans.

Ladybug’s annual holiday stocking giveaway always got a huge amount of attention. A donation drive earlier in the year had turned up not only toys and fun things for the kids, but personal care items and small luxuries, which she and Chat Noir handed out where they were needed.

This year, the entire hero team was invited. It was one last hurrah before their Miraculous were retired for good, now that Hawkmoth knew their identities. Viperion admired the way Ladybug worked the small crowd of children waiting their turn, making sure they got directed to their favorite heroes, making sure the smaller ones didn’t get crowded out by the larger ones.

Viperion hauled another box out of the truck and started handing filled stockings up to the other heroes, to pass to the children, when suddenly Ladybug was in front of him, hands on her hips. 

“Viperion, what are you doing back here?” Ladybug demanded. Viperion raised an eyebrow and handed her a filled stocking. Ladybug rolled her eyes, and handed it off to Rena behind her. “You know what I meant.”

“A few of the children seemed like they were scared of me, and I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.” Viperion shrugged. “A lot of people don’t like snakes. I don’t mind. It’s the work that’s important. I don’t mind being in the background, it’s where I do my best work anyway.”

“I’m not sure I believe that,” Ladybug huffed, folding her arms, and then she softened. “Viperion, you’re right, but part of the point of this exercise is to for people see the team serving the community. Serving without being seen kind of defeats the purpose.”

He looked down at the box for a moment, and then shrugged. “All right,” Viperion said, getting to his feet and dusting off his hands. He folded his arms and gave her a smirk. “Where do you want me?” 

For a moment Ladybug gaped at him, and a blush spread across her face beneath her mask. Then she smirked back at him, and slipped her arm through his. “Right beside me,” she said warmly, and to Ladybug’s delight and Viperion’s horror,  _ he  _ blushed.

She led him back to the front with a triumphant grin. 

True to her word, she kept him next to her, and the children who might have been hesitant to approach Viperion flocked to Ladybug. If there was a moment of hesitation when they saw him, it didn’t last when the spotted heroine was beside him. 

Luka was so accustomed to flustering Marinette that Viperion had been completely thrown by the way Ladybug had returned his serve. Add in all the eyes watching him and he suddenly felt every inch the awkward teenager and not much of a superhero at all.

_ The children _ , he reminded himself firmly.  _ We’re here for the children _ . Viperion focused on the goggle-eyed, wonderstruck children...and hoped he didn’t look too much like them. 


	8. 10. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes home is a person.

His home sounds like creaking metal, water slapping on the hull, the calls of river birds, and music of every kind. It rocks with the waves and the doors are too low at the top and too high at the bottom, and it has portholes in weird places that they cover with cheap flowered curtains. It smells like iron and gasoline and nail enamel, like Juleka’s shampoo mixed with Rose’s perfume and his mother’s cooking. It’s made up of ridges and hard edges and complicated by clutter, but the small size keeps them close and leaves no room for anger or misunderstanding. It looks loud and confused but it feels like the comforting constant of chaos.

Her home smells like bread and sugar and tea. It’s always warm, sometimes too warm as heat from the ovens rises through their home, and full of corners that she skids around and stairs that she trips  _ up _ . It’s comfortable and steady and welcoming and so full of love and enthusiasm that it’s a wonder there is room for the furniture. It looks traditional but it feels like excitement, like new ideas, like crumbling pastries and airy confections and the slide of cotton and nylon and silk through skillful fingers. It sounds like her father’s laugh and her mother’s squeal, like slamming ovens, the scratch of a pencil, and the occasional squeal of inspiration. 

But sometimes. 

Sometimes. 

Sometimes her home smells like cheap detergent, nail polish, and old metal, diluted by fresh air and sunshine. 

Sometimes his home sounds like the whirr of a sewing machine, the swish of fabric, a stubbed toe and a startled yelp, the chattering of a thousand ideas that can’t be contained. 

Sometimes home feels like fingers tangled comfortably together and looks like a gentle smile or a pair of bright blue eyes.

Sometimes home tastes like two mugs of hot chocolate, a shared croissant, and a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually debated putting this one in another collection because it didn't come out very holiday. I might revisit this prompt later when I have a little more time.


	9. 11. Secret Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juleka's pretty sure her brother is hopeless.

Alya had called it Super Secret Santa. Rather than have everyone give the gift directly to their Secret Santa recipient, the gifts were all left on a table as people came in, labelled for the recipient. Juleka was pretty convinced that the whole _Super Secret_ thing was just to give Alya the extra fun of deducing what gift came from whom, but whatever. People would undoubtedly admit which gift was theirs eventually. 

She just tried to stay out of the way as the party went on, watching enviously as Rose bounced in and out of the small knots of people there. She also watched Luka circle the outskirts just as she did. Neither of them were particularly good with crowds without their instruments. Luka had his, of course, as always, but Nino had set up the music and Luka’s guitar case was left by the door. Juleka could see his hands flexing periodically, itching for it, but eventually he ended up hanging with Ivan and Mylène, and he looked comfortable enough that Juleka stopped paying attention. 

When the time came, they all sat in a circle and Alya handed the gifts out according to the labels. Her plan went awry almost at once because she couldn’t read Kim’s handwriting and had to get him to tell her who the gift was for. She set Adrien’s gift aside; to probably no one’s surprise, he hadn’t been able to make it, but he had made sure to give his gift to Nino so that even if Adrien couldn’t make it, his gift would make it to the right person.

They went around the circle with the usual amount of either polite or genuine enthusiasm, until Marinette unwrapped pink paper from a plain white box and opened it. Her squeal made the people beside her jump and lean away, clutching their ears. “I’ve been looking everywhere for this!” she exclaimed, holding up what Juleka knew was fabric. Juleka watched Luka out of the corner of her eye, wishing she could beam into his head how lame he looked, grinning at the floor and picking at his shoelaces in his efforts to be not completely obvious.

“Well,” Alya said smugly. “I ask myself, who could have gotten you rare and pricey fabric, hmm?” She laid one finger to her lips as if in thought, and Marinette turned pink.

The actual answer was Anarka Couffaine, Juleka was willing to bet. Their mother had mad connections for all kinds of crazy things. Though there was no telling what price she’d extracted from Luka before she’d use them. Poor boy was probably going to be hanging from a rope repainting the side of the boat come summer.

Juleka decided she didn’t feel sorry for him, since he was dumb enough to sit there quietly and tell himself it was fine if Marinette thought the gift was from Adrien, it would just make her happier, anyway.

They continued around the circle, opening packages. Juleka’s was a pair of beautifully made lace gloves. Marinette, maybe? Wouldn’t that be just funny. She shot a smirk at Luka, sure he was thinking the same thing since she could see him chuckling. 

“Wait,” Alya said suddenly, after all of the gifts had been opened. “Luka, you didn’t bring a gift?” 

Juleka glanced up to see her brother’s surprised face.

“Uh, yes?” Luka blinked. “I did.”

“Huh. But there was only one music gift and you got it, so it was probably from Nino,” Alya frowned. “Are you sure we gave it out? Did we miss someone?”

Juleka snickered to herself. Luka was blushing. “No, you didn’t miss it. It went to the person it was for.”

“Really?” Alya looked around. “Who got Luka’s music? I wanted to put it on after Nino’s mix.”

Everyone looked around in confusion. Juleka bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the look on Luka’s face. He sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Because it wasn’t music.”

There was a beat of silence as everyone stared at him, and Juleka snickered. Luka gave her a look and she shrugged. “Told you,” she mumbled. He sighed again and folded his arms, still cool on the outside, but Juleka tensed in response to his defensive stance. Luckily, just the right person spoke up. 

“Why wouldn’t you give music?” Marinette tipped her head to look at him. “Your music is awesome!”

Luka was so flustered by the compliment that he answered without thinking. “Because it wasn’t about me, it was about you.” His hand flew up to cover his mouth. “Ah, I mean…” Everyone around him erupted in laughter. Luka accepted with grace, giving a shrug. “Oops,” he chuckled. Juleka rolled her eyes at him. Dork. 

“Well, that’s--that’s really sweet, Luka.” Marinette smiled. “But you know I love your music.”

“I know,” Luka shrugged, blushing a little harder. “But I figured you needed this more.” He gestured to the package in her hands, and then reached up to rub his neck, looking uncharacteristically flustered. Too many people, Juleka thought. Too many, too close. Fortunately most of them were more interested in their own gifts now that the mystery had been answered. “I mean, I’m happy to make you music whenever you like, so...this time I wanted to help your passion, not push mine on you.”

“You have never pushed anything on me,” Marinette told him firmly, clutching her package. “Plus I’m always inspired by your music! I’ve had some really great ideas, listening to your stuff.”

Juleka had never seen her brother more ready to faint on the spot. She smirked behind her hair as she watched him desperately try to keep his cool, though he was already smiling that idiotic she’s-so-damn-cute smile, which as far as Juleka was concerned robbed him of all rights to the word ‘cool,’ especially when he did it in public. 

Distraction time. “Hey Alix, what’d you get?” she muttered to the short girl on her right, counting on her to be loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. She was not disappointed. 

Later, Juleka found herself walking home beside Luka and Marinette. She was pretty sure this was not the fastest route to the boat from Alya’s apartment, but as much as she enjoyed embarrassing her brother, she actually liked the idea of him and Marinette together, so she did him a favor and kept her mouth shut.

“How did you know what to get, though?” Marinette asked, folding the package to her chest. “This is exactly what I needed. But you spent so much money on me, Luka, this can’t be in the limit!”

Luka smirked, more at ease now that they were out of the crowd and he had one hand gripping the strap of his beloved guitar case. “Marinette, how do you know what I paid for it? I make deliveries all over the city, I have plenty of chances to shop around. I have connections.” 

Juleka rolled her eyes. While none of those statements were blatantly false, she was positive Luka was full of shit. He had absolutely ignored the spending limit and paid something close to full price. 

Bless Marinette and her constant willingness to believe her friends were all amazing for not calling him out. Juleka kind of wanted to gag as she listened to Marinette gush. Luka was turning redder by the minute, too. 

“As for how I knew,” Luka said when Marinette finally paused to breathe, and Juleka shot him a warning look which he, as usual, ignored. “I do kind of have a secret agent on my side.” He tipped his head toward Juleka. “She’s a lot more observant than people give her credit for.” 

Marinette turned her brilliant smile on Juleka, and Luka smirked over her head at his sister, because now Juleka was blushing. “Oh, it was nothing, I mean, it’s not like it was hard, Alya asked all the questions, I just took a couple of notes,” she mumbled in her least intelligible voice. 

“Well, it was wonderful, and I’m super grateful to you both. This is my turn, I’ll see you both later!” She put her hand on Luka’s shoulder and pulled herself up toward him. He bent automatically, clearly expecting a bise, but instead she planted a kiss firmly on his cheek. Juleka was breathing in to laugh at the stunned look and heavy blush on his face when Marinette turned, came up on her toes, and put a similar kiss on her cheek as well. 

“Bye guys!” Marinette called, waving as she turned towards the bakery.

The siblings just stood there for a minute, then looked at each other. Luka started laughing. “You should see your face.” 

“Bite me, tomato boy,” she grumbled, and punched him in the arm when he kept laughing.

“Man, we’re hopeless,” he chuckled as they started walking again. 

” _You’re_ hopeless,” Juleka muttered. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen the way you look at Rose, you’re not fooling anyone with your stoic goth act. And may I point out, you were blushing too just now, miss dark and gloomy.”

Juleka just shrugged. There was no point denying facts.

Everybody knew the Couffaines were weak for living balls of sunshine with pretty eyes.


	10. 12. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka's a dead man walking and he knows it.

“ _ Luka Couffaine!” _

Luka winced. That was it. His time was up. Time to suck it up and take his punishment. He popped the remaining cookie in his mouth quickly so he could savor the last morsel before he died.

Marinette rounded the corner, stalking towards him with fury and death in those blue eyes he loved so much and a highly inappropriate corner of his mind thought  _ damn, she’s beautiful when she’s pissed. _

“Welcome home,” he said weakly, and drained the last of the milk from his glass.

“Did you seriously eat the entire batch of ginger spice cookies?” Marinette demanded. 

Luka didn’t have many options. Denial was both foolish and cowardly, since he had, in fact, eaten the cookies, and anyway the plate full of crumbs and empty milk glass condemned him before he could say a word. Not to mention he kind of had a record when it came to these kinds of things. He wasn’t going to victim-blame the cookies for being so sweet and delicious (since it probably wouldn’t work anyway), and he wasn’t nearly suicidal enough to point out that it was Marinette’s fault for baking them in the first place, even though after five years of dating and almost two years of marriage, she should know he couldn’t resist them. Seduction was chancy with that damn party tonight, she’d just be mad all over again if he made them late. 

Okay. Phase one, truth. 

“Technically, Tikki ate one,” he pointed out, careful to keep his tone contrite.. 

“One! With permission!” Marinette threw up her hands. “What am I supposed to take to the party now?”

Moving slowly, keeping his hands in sight, Luka picked up a pink box from the end table and slid it carefully across the coffee table towards her.

Marinette’s eyes narrowed. “You went and got treats from my parents specifically so you could eat my cookies?!”

Okay, no, that sounded bad, a premeditated crime was always worse. Time for phase two, groveling. “Well, no,” Luka’s shoulders slumped. “I’d already eaten half of them by the time I left for work so I figured I needed to have a backup plan, but then I was home and the house still smelled like cookies and I knew you’d be mad anyway...” He hung his head. “I’m sorry. I’m weak. And you know they’re my favorite—“ Whoops. No, stop, abort, abort. “I’m sorry,” he finished, a statement of dubious truth really, but these were desperate times.

Marinette sighed and her shoulders went back, her arms folding across her chest. Good signs. “Luka, I made you extra so this wouldn’t happen.” 

“I did eat those first,” he protested weakly. There was a distinct hissing sound from the cushion on the other end of the sofa.  _ Laugh it up, Sass, you’re a real help. _

“You...I—” She grabbed her hair and pulled, and he watched her carefully. This could actually be a good thing. He had a chance if she overloaded and fizzled out. Time for phase three: charm.

“Come on, babe, it’ll be okay,” he said, reaching out to pull her into his lap. “We do have a backup plan, and you’ll have a funny story to tell at the party.” She let him enfold her, her hands still buried in her hair. He kissed her cheek and her jaw. “I know I was wrong,” he said, moving down her neck. “Please forgive me.”

“No, no, no,” she hissed, squirming away from him. “You are not schmoozing your way out of this one.” 

“Are you sure?” Luka said, backing off, though he felt a laugh bubbling up as he sensed weakness. He gave her a sly grin. “I probably taste really good right now.” 

“You taste like a  _ thief _ ,” she huffed, but he could see her gaze focused on his mouth. 

He leaned in to tease her lips with his. “Don’t knock it till you try it, babe,” he chuckled, and couldn’t help laughing into the kiss when she growled and nearly tackled him into the couch. 

Cookies  _ and _ kisses. Who said crime didn’t pay?


	11. 2. Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the snowy afternoon he spent with Marinette, Luka has some really nice associations with hot chocolate.
> 
> Continues 1. Snowflakes (chapter 1 if you need a refresher))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had nothing for prompt 13 which was Reindeer so I went back to the ones I missed for inspiration, so today is 2. Hot Chocolate, and fittingly it is a continuation of Ch 1 and prompt 1. Snowflakes

“My friends and I went out for hot chocolate today.” Luka folded his arms and leaned his chin on them, smiling at Marinette’s image on his phone. “They all made fun of me because I couldn’t stop smiling.” 

“Really?” Marinette giggled. “Why?”

“Mmm...I just seem to have some really good memories associated with hot chocolate now. Last time I had some, things were going pretty great. You know, when it snowed?” A slow smile spread over his face as he watched her connect the dots and go pink. “I’d love to have you come make me hot chocolate again sometime,” he added as casually as he could manage while she was looking so cute.

“O-oh, well, you know, it’s nothing special, just a—just a family recipe. I could send it to you if you want.” 

Luka’s low chuckle made her cheeks turn even pinker, and he loved it. “No, I don’t think it would be the same if anybody else made it. It’s okay, though, if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do—I mean, I’d be happy to make you hot chocolate anytime. Well not anytime. I’m not that desperate. Not that I have to be desperate, but I mean. There are times that are appropriate for hot chocolate and times that aren’t, you know, like, the middle of summer would be totally a bad time to have hot chocolate, n-not that I wouldn’t—I mean—Luka! Stop that!” she cried as he buried his face in his arms and laughed.

“You’re too cute Marinette,” he said affectionately, laying his cheek back on his arms. “Can I take you out again this weekend? Hot chocolate optional, I promise. And hopefully we won’t get snowed on this time.”

“The snow was nice,” Marinette said weakly, still red.

“It was definitely the best snow ever,” Luka grinned, watching her groan and put her face in her hands. “Could have lived without the shoveling part though.” Marinette looked up and glared at him and he said innocently, “So, Saturday?”

* * *

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary when Luka got home the next day, until he opened the door to go below and smelled chocolate. That was odd. Neither his mother nor Juleka particularly liked to bake for fun, and he couldn’t think of any special occasion that would need a cake. He went down the stairs, breathing deeply, and looked into the little galley, only to promptly trip over his own feet. 

Marinette was there, stirring a pot on the stove. And she looked...really cute, in leggings and a chunky sweater that hung low on her shoulders, her hair pulled into a low ponytail on one side. Despite his clumsy entrance, she appeared not to notice him, but he could see just the high point of her cheek from where she stood, tinted with a blush, and knew she was playing him.

It was working, too. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Hey Marinette, didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Oh,” she turned and smiled. “Hi Luka. Well, I was supposed to meet Juleka and Rose here to make some props for the school pageant, but we realized we didn’t have all the things we needed, so they went shopping. I thought I’d go ahead and make us some hot chocolate so they can get warm when they get back.” 

Luka looked away to hide his grin. Her excuses were always such crap. “They might be awhile. Have you ever seen Rose in a craft store? It’s not pretty. And the glitter. So much glitter.” He shook his head solemnly.

“Oh,” Marinette’s eyes widened innocently and he had to cough to keep from laughing. “Well, that’s okay, I guess you and I can just have some until they get back.”

“That sounds cool, you know I love your hot chocolate,” he said, playing it as straight as he could. “I’ll go put my stuff down and come out and hang with you until they get back.”

“Okay,” she replied brightly, as if her plan was  _ totally working _ .

He made it behind the closed door of his bedroom before he gave in to the laughter, but only just. She was so freaking adorable, he couldn’t stand it. And she thought she was so smooth. 

Oh, he’d show her smooth.

Luka came back with his acoustic and sat down on the couch, propping one ankle up on his knee as he usually did, as casually as possible. He tuned up and played a few exercises to warm up. 

Then he began his song, watching Marinette out of the corner of his eye. He saw her cock her head slightly and knew she was listening. Smiling to himself, he sang, “That Christmas day so long away, when first I saw her eyes, now every year she reappears in dark December skies. The moon it shone above the Ben as we kissed below the plough. The stars were singing as we lay upon the frosted ground.”

He’d never sung in front of her before—his voice wasn’t metal enough for Kitty Section’s sound—and he could barely keep himself together when she whipped around and stared at him. He waited until he finished the chorus to look up and blink at her. “Everything okay, Marinette?”

“What?” she asked blankly.

“Did you need something? You stopped stirring.” He was having way too much fun with this.

Marinette jumped. “Oh, no, it’s almost done actually. I didn’t know you could sing.” 

Luka just grinned, looking back to his guitar. He waited until her back was to him to start singing again. “But maybe we will meet again on the circle of the sea, and in this world or the next I’ll feel her close to me, and the golden west horizon will be ours for just a while, when the snowflakes of our future will melt upon her smile.”

Marinette sat next to him, a mug in each hand. 

He set the guitar aside and took up the mug Marinette handed him, holding her eyes as he finished the chorus on his own. “And if the sun comes down in December, and the snow lies over the green, I’ll leave the last drop in my glass to remember the eyes of my highland queen.” Smiling, he raised his mug to his lips. “Hmm...not quite right,” he murmured as if to himself. 

“No?” Marinette said, concerned. 

“Hmm.” Luka set his mug aside, caught her face in his hands, and drew her gently in for a chocolate flavored kiss. “There it is,” he smiled, nudging her nose with his. “Just needed a little more sweetness.”

Marinette tried to contain a laugh and ended up snorting, pushing him away. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” She was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, and Luka knew he ought to be put out but she was just so _ cute _ . “That last line was just too much, Luka. Oh my, you were doing so well, too,” she chortled, and Luka laughed, blushing, and picked his mug back up.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he grinned, before taking a sip. “You really do make the best hot chocolate, Marinette.” 

“Mm, well, you’re my favorite person to have hot chocolate with,” she giggled, snuggling into his side. 

That warmed him more than the drink or the blanket he pulled down from the back of the couch to cover them both with. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Luka sings here is December by Skippinish, which I know is actually a sad song, but it fit, so we'll roll with it. You can find it on YouTube here: https://youtu.be/shXtDoDyTzY
> 
> 12\. Cookies went up really close to the last update, so make sure to back up a chapter and read it if you missed it. I giggled the whole time I wrote it.


	12. 14. Candy Canes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette asked for help, and Luka can't refuse, even if it means he gets burned.

Luka felt a bit foolish, sitting there with a hot glue gun carefully gluing tiny red pompoms and googly eyes on candy canes, but Marinette had asked for help, and well…

Well Luka was a sucker. 

He was the only guy in a room full of women, but that was so typical for him that it didn’t even ping his radar. The whole room smelled like peppermint. There was a whole case of candy canes on his right, and Rose sat to his left, taking the candy canes and tying pipe cleaner antlers on them. Across from them, Marinette had the other glue gun (which was honestly making him a little bit nervous) and Juleka sat beside her on antler duty.

“How many of these do we have to do?” Juleka asked in a mumble.

“The whole case!” Rose chirped excitedly. 

“Does anybody ever actually eat candy canes?” Luka wondered aloud.

“That’s not the point!” Rose pouted, but Marinette giggled, and Luka shot her a grin. 

She was adorable in an oversize sweater and leggings, plus a reindeer antler headband that she had made herself and she was absolutely the reason Luka was sitting here risking his fingers and his sanity gluing tiny eyes on the most useless candy ever invented. 

“I’ve seen people put them in hot chocolate,” Marinette suggested. 

“There’s literally nothing you can do with a candy cane that wouldn’t be easier with some other kind of peppermint,” Juleka grunted. She set another candy cane reindeer down in the completed pile, and took the next one from Marinette. She and Luka exchanged a look of amusement and commiseration, both stuck doing this because they were hopeless lovesick saps. Juleka had the advantage, though, Luka thought ruefully as he snuck another glance at Marinette. He was the real idiot here.

“Do you want some music?” Marinette asked, her eyes fixed on her hands. “I could put on Jagged Stone’s Rockmas album.”

“Ooh, that sounds perfect!” Rose squealed. 

“Thanks for helping us out, Luka,” Marinette smiled at him, and he automatically returned it, caught by her eyes. “I know there’s probably a bunch of other things you could be doing, but we have to have these done by tomorrow if we’re going to get them on the donated packages for the children’s hospital, and Mylène had to bail on us.”

“No prob—ow, shit!” he exclaimed, jerking his hand back and dropping the glue gun.

“Oh no,” Marinette gasped, lunging forward. With unusual dexterity she caught his wrist in one hand and grabbed the glue gun with the other, lifting it up and placing it carefully upright on its stand. “Come on,” she said, tugging him up and toward her sink. “I’m so sorry, that stuff hurts so much!”

“You didn’t do anything,” he said as she twisted her tap and pulled his hand under the cold water. “I was just careless.” 

“But your hands,” Marinette fretted. “Why didn’t I think of that? I should have had you doing the antlers.”

“You did,” he chuckled. “I was so bad at it that Rose took over, remember?”

“Still,” Marinette sighed, still holding his hand under the stream of cold water. “I could’ve found something else for you to do—”

“I volunteered to help, not to make work for you. It’s fine, Marinette, I knew what I was getting into.” He tugged on his hand lightly. “It’s my right hand, anyway, I should still be able to hold the pick. Might’ve been trickier if it were my fret hand.”

“No more glue gun for you,” Marinette said decidedly, pulling his hand out of the stream of water and holding it up to examine. The angry red spot had turned to more of a grumpy pink. Even so, she didn’t let go of him, tugging him over to her closet, where she pulled out the first aid kid. She did let go of him long enough to open it and pull out a tube of cream and a bandage. “I’ve burned myself a hundred times on that thing,” she said, taking his hand and turning it. She dabbed the cream lightly over the burned place, and then put a bandage over it. 

Then she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it. 

Luka blushed, and so did Marinette, and suddenly she couldn’t look at him. “No more glue gun for you,” she proclaimed again as she packed up the first aid kit. “We’ve got enough done now, you can start tying the ribbons on them.” 

Speechless, Luka let her grab his arm and pull him back across the room, where she dumped several spools of ribbon in his lap and handed him a pair of scissors. 

Juleka raised her eyebrows at him and Luka realized his mouth was hanging open. He shut it quickly and began sorting out the pile of ribbon. At least he had been helping Juleka with her hair for long enough that he could tie a decent bow. As long as he didn’t get distracted by Marinette and cut himself with the scissors, this should be fine.

He sighed and chuckled a little at himself. Man, he really was hopeless. He sneaked a glance at Marinette, and caught her looking at him. Her eyes flicked away and her cheeks turned pink. “Music,” she muttered under her breath. “I said I was going to put on some music.” She set her hot glue gun carefully aside and ran to her desk. 

Well, at least it seemed like today, he wasn’t the only one. His smile was a little wider as he snipped the next length of ribbon.


	13. 16. The Perfect Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka didn't mean to ruin her gift, he swears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun with this one, I hope it's as funny to you as it is to me. AU where Luka and Marinette met as adults and have been dating for while.

“Babe.”

No response.

“Marinette.”

Nothing but the tightening of already-white lips.

Luka sighed. “I can’t apologize if you don’t talk to me.”

“Yeah, actually, you can.” Marinette snapped. She slammed on the breaks as the light changed and Luka winced as he was thrown into the seatbelt. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” he asked breathlessly, rubbing his chest. “Or maybe we should pull over until you’re less—“

She twisted in the seat to look at him and he actually flinched back at the look on her face. “Angry? Pissed off?  _ Enraged? _ ”

“Yeah, pretty much all of those. Look, baby, I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t know!” she yelled, making him wince. “That’s the point of a surprise, you jackass! And don’t you  _ dare _ call me baby right now!” She slammed her foot on the gas and between the yelling and the sudden acceleration, Luka felt dizzy.

“Do you know how hard I worked to pull that off?” she demanded, still near full volume. “How many favors I called in to make it perfect?” 

“I don’t, but I can imagine, and I’m really incredibly touched and grateful—“

“ _ Jagged Stone _ , Luka. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get on his schedule, even when he likes you?  _ At Christmas _ ? Especially when you’re asking him to meet another musician. But I did it, Luka. I did it  _ for you _ .”

“Marinette,  _ please _ pull over, or at least slow down—“

“More than that, I got him to agree to dinner. Do you know how picky he is? Do you know how long it took Penny and me to put that dinner together? Of course you don’t, because it was a surprise, because I wanted it to be perfect—“

Oh shit, the tears were starting and she was still yelling, that was a bad sign. Usually he got one or the other, not both at once.

“And then you walk in there, and I’m just waiting to see your face when you realize I got you dinner with your rock idol, and you walked in that room and you know, I was prepared for some embarrassing nonsense to come out of your mouth, I was prepared to swoop in and rescue you from looking like an idiot, but you know what I did not expect you to say?”

“Sweetheart, if you’d just let me explain—“

“Don’t  _ sweetheart _ me you  _ asshole _ !” she scream-sobbed. “Of all the things I expected you to walk in there and say, I did  _ not _ expect you to say  _ Hi Dad _ .”

Luka sighed. “I was going to tell you, it just never came up.”

She swerved and screeched to a halt at the curb, and Luka breathed a sigh of relief as she parked the car, until she turned to him and his fear for his life suddenly  _ increased _ .

“ _ Never came up? _ ” she whispered.  _ Whispered,  _ oh he was so fucked, about to be destroyed by the sheer rage of a gorgeous woman in a sexy gold cocktail dress and all the fires of hell burning in her blue eyes.  _ What a way to go _ , some traitorous part of him thought. He shoved the thought aside as Marinette continued. “How about when we first met and I was trying so hard to impress you by telling you I designed for Jagged Stone?”

“C’mon babe—Marinette,” he corrected hastily as her eyes flashed. “It would’ve sounded like I was lying to impress you if I’d said it then. And for the record I  _ was _ impressed, super impressed! I know how picky he is—“

“Or all the times I teased you about how much of his merch you have?” 

Luka groaned. “I swear, I can’t get him to stop sending that crap, it’s embarrassing—“

“Or during any of the hundreds of times we talked about your music and your talent in the  _ year and a half _ we’ve been dating.” Marinette’s eyes narrowed. Luka swallowed. 

“I...should have told you,” he said meekly. 

“You  _ should have told me, Luka. _ ” She hit the steering wheel so hard Luka thought the airbag was going to deploy. “Argh! All that work, wasted!” she wailed, folding her arms on the wheel and dropping her forehead on them.

Luka tentatively reached out and rubbed her back gently. “I’m really sorry, Marinette,” he ventured. “I really am grateful, I know how much effort you put in and I’m really touched that you would do something like that for me. It really would have been the perfect present under, er...other circumstances.” He chuckled nervously . “I’m surprised you managed to do all that without mentioning my name all this time.”

Marinette rolled her eyes “Of course I mentioned your name, he teases me all the time about how I can’t  _ stop _ talking about you—“ she stopped, her eyes growing wide. Luka held his breath, wondering if he was suddenly, miraculously saved. 

“ _ Jagged _ ,” Marinette whispered. “Oh, that absolute  _ bastard.”  _ She twisted the keys and the engine roared to life. “I’m gonna kill him,” she screeched, the tires echoing the sound as she whipped them into a brutal u-turn. “That sneaky, underhanded, mean-spirited—“

Luka grinned to himself as she continued to vent, bracing his feet and reaching for the handle above the door. Assuming they survived the trip back to the hotel, he couldn’t  _ wait _ to see this. Watching his gorgeously irate girlfriend tear his estranged father apart?

_ Best Christmas present  _ **_ever_ ** _. _


	14. 17. Ugly Christmas Sweaters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka's sister is a supermodel, so he's not an easy man to impress, but he's got to know, who is that gorgeous woman in the hideous sweater?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting busier and I'm falling a bit behind, but that's okay. I may not get all of them but I'm still doing pretty good! 
> 
> This one could actually work as a prequel to 16. The Perfect Gift, if you like to look at it that way, but it stands on its own as well.

Servers moved through the crowd with champagne and wine. Luka was a fan of neither, and made a mental note to complain about it somewhere Juleka’s agent could hear him. The woman was a force when it came to contracts and negotiations but in Luka’s opinion her taste in party planning was sadly lacking.

Looking around, Luka wondered with mild amusement how many of these people had ever been to an ugly sweater party before. Some of the models present had clearly made the most minimal possible gesture, wearing sweaters that were maybe a bit tacky but not especially horrific.  _ Cowards,  _ he thought. 

He finally managed to get a waiter to just bring him a damn beer already, and found a quiet place near the windows to enjoy it, his eyes flicking idly over the party again as he raised the glass to his lips.

Suddenly he forgot the drink and everything else in the room as his eyes stopped on the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, wearing the ugliest sweater ever created by the hand of man.

It had to be that ugly to divert even the smallest bit of his attention from the woman wearing it. It might be hideous but unlike most of the other bulky monstrosities in the room, it was perfectly fitted, long enough to be a dress on the petite woman, and—and she actually looked good in it.

Really good.

So good. Luka was not an easy man to impress. His sister was a supermodel, after all, and he’d been to more of her stupid parties than he could count, and been hit on by her backstabbing, two-faced model frenemeys at every single one, but this woman...she was an honest kind of pretty, blue-eyed and freckled and so sweet in those pigtails topped with a cute santa hat, she looked like she’d melt on his tongue like sugar— 

“Jules,” he said breathlessly, glass lowering slowly, somehow knowing his sister was beside him without actually looking away. “Jules, who is that?” 

“Hmm? Who?” Juleka turned around, scanning the crowd.

“In the red sweater,” he began, and paused. Everyone was wearing ugly sweaters in various shades of red and green, with the occasional royal blue (like his own), black (like Juleka’s) or blinding white weaving through the crowd. “Black hair, blue eyes, nice legs.” He was too busy staring at the strip of lace going up the side of the leggings she wore to realize what he’d said, until Juleka rounded on him and gave him a look that would be less intimidating on a shark. Shit, he was checking that poor woman out like a horny teenager. “Oh my God,” he muttered with a sigh, catching Juleka’s arm and turning her to face the big glass windows behind them. “Her.” He pointed at her reflection in the glass, as if he were pointing out a sight on the skyline.

“Oooh,” Juleka said, eyebrows arching. Then she smirked. “Good taste, bro.” 

“Come on, Juleka, you can pick on me later, do you know her?”

“It’s my party, dumbass, I know everyone at least a little,” Juleka said, frowning. “Yes, I know her and I like her. She’s really cool, really smart, really nice—like genuinely nice, not industry-fake nice—and if you one night stand her not only will I lose all respect for you, I swear they will never find your body.”

“I should be so lucky, damn,” Luka muttered, glancing over his shoulder, and turned red when Juleka giggled—or maybe cackled. 

“Follow me, Don Juan.” She turned, and then paused, lifting a finger tipped with a deadly-looking, well-manicured nail. “Do  _ not _ embarrass me. And I mean it about the one-night stand thing. You make a move on her, you better be serious. She is miles above your last few girlfriends and you’d be an idiot to miss out. More importantly, she’s going places and I am  _ not _ getting blacklisted because you couldn’t control your—”

“I get it,” Luka hissed, cutting her off as a couple of raised eyebrows turned in their direction. “Shit, Juleka, I’m not a lecher.”

“Could’ve fooled me, the way you were looking,” Juleka sniffed. “Wipe the drool off your chin before we get to her.”

Luka rolled his eyes, and then followed her slow drift through the crowd, trying to conceal his impatience. Fortunately he was good at that.  _ Cool, be cool, be cool, oh shit there she is— _

“Marinette!” Juleka waved with a reserved smile that was, for her, a shit-eating grin. “I’m so glad you could make it.” 

“Thanks for inviting me, Juleka,” Marinette said as they exchanged cheek kisses. She glanced at Luka with a bright smile that made his knees week.  _ Oh God, she has freckles, they’re so cute... _

“Honestly you’re one of the only people I really wanted here,” Juleka whispered. “You’re my favorite designer to work with by far. My agent invited most of the rest.” She straightened and returned her voice to her normal soft tone. “I don’t think you’ve met my brother, Luka,” Juleka turned in a perfect model pivot, catching his arm with fingers that dug in like claws in a silent  _ Don’t fuck this up, moron _ . Only not fucking up was a problem just now, as the moment those eyes turned on him, Luka forgot both languages that he was normally fluent in. “He’s the lead guitarist for Ouroboros,” Juleka added quickly when Luka didn’t speak. “I know you’re a fan.”

_ Fan _ . That word saved him. It put a pause on his meltdown long enough for her eyes to widen slightly and her cheeks to turn the slightest bit pinker. Her eyes swept up and down him and then locked on his, and it was enough hope to unlock his brain. 

“I’m very glad to meet you, Marinette,” Luka smiled, offering his hand. “I’m always happy to meet a fan.” Oh shit, that sounded pretentious didn’t it. Juleka’s claws tightened on his arm, as if he needed confirmation. “Of the music, I mean,” he covered quickly, “Not of me personally, I didn’t mean to assume—”

“But I am!” she blurted. “A fan,” she clarified. “Of you. And the music. I mean. You write most of the songs, too, right? Your name was in the album sleeve. For both, I mean, the guitar, and the music. So I kind of have to be a fan of you to be a fan of the music.” She shut her mouth abruptly, clearly embarrassed, as if her babbling wasn’t both cute and flattering, as if she weren’t absolutely adorable as well as a total knockout. He was in so much trouble. “I um, I loved your last show,” she added. 

Crap, and she’d seen him on stage where he was confident and sexy and mysterious and there was no way the real life him wasn’t going to be a let down.

“I have to say, I love your sweater, Marinette,” Juleka giggled, letting go of Luka’s arm with one more warning squeeze. “You had to work to find something that bad, didn’t you?”

Marinette turned pale at the reminder of what she was wearing, one hand flying to her chest. “Oh, I-I-well the party, I mean, I kind of had to, even though it nearly killed me. But I thought, you know—” Her lovely shoulders rose slightly in a shrug. “Go big or go home, right? You know me, never do anything halfway.” 

“You tailored it, though, didn’t you?” Juleka smiled, wrinkling her nose. “I wish I’d thought of that.” Luka wished she had too, Juleka was so beautiful that it was a crime to have that sweater hanging off her the way it did, so that she looked like a scarecrow in a field. He didn’t know what her agent was thinking with this party theme.

“I couldn’t help it,” Marinette nearly whined, shoulders slumping. “I just couldn’t stand it until I’d done  _ something. _ No offense, Juleka, but what was your agent thinking with this party theme?” 

Luka’s smile grew. 

“I think it’s her revenge on me for begging her not to make me wear an evening gown all night,” Juleka said morosely. “I wanted a casual party, but—” She waved a hand helplessly.

“Well, the sweater really is awful,” Luka chuckled. “But you certainly made it look good.” He’d been referring to the tailoring, but he realized how the words sounded when they hit his ears.

“God, why are you like this,” he heard Juleka mumble, and he felt the flush creeping up his neck, though he was probably the only one that understood her.

Oh, fuck it. What was the point of covering up how attracted he was to her anyway? Hell, it was like she said. Go big or go home, right? He might as well own this, since he clearly wasn’t going to be able to rein it in. 

Well, one thing was for damn sure, if he didn’t get to kiss her by the end of the night, it wouldn’t be because she didn’t know he wanted to.

“I mean, I’ve heard the expression that someone could look good in a potato sack,” he grinned, leaning in just slightly. “But it takes somebody really special to wear something like that and still catch my attention from all the way across the room. Would you like to dance? I’d love to chat more and find out if all the great things Juleka said about you are true.”

“Juleka was talking about me?” Marinette said, clearly stunned. 

“Yeah, when I begged her to tell me who that gorgeous woman in the awful sweater was.” 

“It’s true,” Juleka sighed, apparently picking up what he was laying down, and on his wing as always, though she might kill him later. “I told him you were too good for him and I’d murder him if he didn’t watch himself, and he still wanted to meet you. It’s just bad luck for him you know the band, because right now you think he’s tough and cool, but since he insisted on talking to you, you’re going to find out he’s really a giant, soft-hearted dork just happens to be good at guitar.”

“I’m good at other things too,” Luka flashed her a grin, and then let out an _ oof _ , as Juleka put her elbow straight in his gut. 

“Too much, dumbass, God,” she told him flatly. “I told you not to embarrass me.”

“Ugh, you’re such a harpy,” Luka grimaced. “Damn supermodels and your sharp angles.”

“Kiss my perky five million dollar ass, Luka.”

Marinette’s mouth had been opening and closing  as they spoke, her blue eyes wide, her cheeks getting pinker with every word. Now she just stared at them, and suddenly she covered her pretty mouth as a giggle bubbled up. “Wow,” she laughed. “I’m seeing a whole new side of you, Juleka.”

“Yeah, well, unlike most of the people at work, I know Luka won’t poison my drink if I pick on him,” Juleka grinned, linking her arm through Luka’s. “He’s always had my back. He may be a dork who can’t talk to cute girls without my help, but he’s a good guy and a good brother.” She sighed. “Speaking of the sharks, I have to get back to mingling,” Juleka said regretfully. “So are you going to dance with my loser brother or what, Marinette?” 

Marinette was still laughing, but she managed to get out, “Sure, I’d love to.” 

Luka grinned as Juleka’s arm slid out of his so he could offer it to Marinette.

“Thanks sis,” he said over his shoulder, shooting her a wink. “We’ll send you an invite to the wedding.” 

“Luka!” Marinette protested, laughing.

“That’s not a no,” he grinned at her. 

“You barely know me!” she giggled.

“I know a good thing when I see it,” he smiled as they reached the dance floor and turned towards each other, hands moving to waist and back and folding together thoughtlessly. “So, tell me what I should know about my future wife.”

“You’re terrible,” Marinette shook her head.

“Yeah, I’m laying it on kinda thick, aren’t I,” Luka chuckled. “Sorry. Maybe you can tell me a little bit about yourself and hopefully by the end of it I’ll have regained my ability to speak like a somewhat normal person.”

Marinette blushed and her gaze skittered away. “I’m not really that special, honestly.”

Luka's chuckle turned into a laugh. “You know Juleka still says the same thing about herself.”

“Juleka?” Marinette’s blue eyes went huge. “But—she’s a supermodel! She’s worn the biggest designers—she’s on the cover of  _ Vogue _ and  _ Style Queen _ and—“ she trailed off, but more as if there were too many ideas for her to articulate rather than she had run out of things. 

“Yep,” Luka grinned. “And she thinks pretty highly of you.” 

“Really?” Marinette blinked.

“Definitely. Usually if I ask her to introduce me to someone at these parties she just gives me a deadpan look, shrugs, and says ‘your funeral.’” He chuckled. “She’s pretty much been right, too. 

“We’re in a room full of supermodels and you wanted to talk to me?” Marinette raised her eyebrows.

Luka’s eyes flicked to the ceiling for a second and he wet his lips as he tried to phrase his answer. “I don’t mean anything against all these ladies,” he said finally, “I'm sure some of them are perfectly nice people. But Juleka’s been modeling a long time and I’ve been to a lot of parties and fashion shows and all that with her. And…I don’t know, I guess somewhere along the line all those perfect faces started to blend together. I kind of stopped seeing pretty and started seeing interesting. Which isn’t to say you aren’t pretty,” he added quickly. “I’m totally serious, you stopped me in my tracks from all the way across the room.” Luka frowned suddenly. “I wonder what happened to my beer.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I just meant, ah…”

Marinette giggled. “I think I know what you mean.  _ Paper faces turn on edge and disappear, lifeless they flutter away, all I long for is a heart that I can hear, and arms where I can stay _ .”

Luka had probably never blushed so hard in his life, hearing his own lyrics quoted back at him from those lips. “Wow, you really are a fan,” he said, and had to clear his throat. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I meant. It always comes easier in the music.” 

“And can you hear my heart?” she asked teasingly, looking up at him through her lashes. 

“I think so, yeah,” Luka replied, his own smile taking on a little bit of that smirk he wore on stage. “Can I stay in your arms, Marinette?”

“Well. For the rest of this song at least,” she shrugged, but her smile widened and there was a brightness in her eyes when she looked at him that made his hand tighten a little on her waist. 

“It’s a start,” he sighed, as if disappointed. “I guess we’ll just have to see where the music takes us.” 

She smiled, slipping her hand out of his and bringing it up to meet her other hand behind his neck. 


	15. 24. Jingle Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka is NOT going to develop yet another spontaneous crush, even if the girl who knocked over the jingle display is distressingly cute.

Luka stared at the wall of small jars in front of him, debating between actually searching through the hundreds of labels, and walking out and telling Juleka that this store was out too. His sister was on some kind of quest to find a very specific type of glitter that Rose desperately needed. Juleka had been to five craft stores and Luka to three, but he was beginning to feel like maybe he should just let Juleka work this one out on her own.

Except he couldn’t abandon his sister on Christmas, because he loved her and also because he was a sucker. Also because of a little niggling fear that she might _know_ the way she sometimes did, and it was hard to guard against the revenge of a sister with whom you shared a room.

He jumped and whirled at a yelp behind him, just in time to see a girl tumble into a display of boxed jingle bells artistically but impractically stacked in the middle of the store aisle. Even as he jogged over to the help, the poor girl curled up and covered her head with her arms as jingle bells of all sizes tumbled from their boxes and rained down on her. 

Luka’s ears were still ringing from the disaster when he reached the scene and knelt next to the girl. “Are you all right?” he asked the girl softly, laying a hand on her arm. “That looked like it hurt.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” she laughed shakily, rubbing her head and looking over herself. “I mean when it comes to me a few more bumps and bruises don’t really matter. I collect them like some people collect stamps.” 

“I think you need a better hobby,” Luka chuckled, helping her up with a slight jingling as they sent bells of various sizes rolling, and his stomach did a little flip when she laughed. _Oh no you don’t,_ Luka thought at it grimly. _I am absolutely not doing this again. No more insta-crushes for the rest of the year, I swore._

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Luka and the girl both turned their heads and winced at the look on the store employee’s face. He looked about Luka’s age and his name tag said Tim.

“I’m so sorry,” gasped the girl, looking at the devastation of bells around her. “I’m so, so sorry, there was one on the floor and I slipped on it and I—I’m so so sorry.” 

“Yeah, right, that’s why you were standing here laughing it up. You think this is funny? You probably knocked it down on purpose just to make more work for poor saps like me.” Tim scowled. 

The girl shrank in on herself. “N-no, I really am so sorry—I’m super clumsy, I tripped and—I’m so sorry, I’ll help clean it up I swear—”

“Hey, friend, listen,” Luka said, taking a quick step forward. “I saw the whole thing, she really didn’t do it on purpose. She honestly fell, and let’s be honest, man, it probably wasn’t the best display to put out in the middle of the aisle like that. It was bound to come down eventually.” He grinned. “I’ll bet you told management that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tim admitted, folding his arms. “I did, and they made me put it up anyway. It took _hours_.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Luka said sympathetically. “That really sucks and I know you’ve got to be crazy busy today. But look, like she said, we’ll help you clean it up—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Tim sighed, deflating. “At least I get paid to deal with it. Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” he asked belatedly, looking to the girl behind Luka.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said meekly. “Are you sure you don’t want help—”

“No, you guys just get on with your day,” he smiled, waving her off. “I have to be here until closing anyway, at least I’ve got an excuse not to talk to customers for a while.” He winced, looking over his shoulder, probably hoping his supervisor hadn’t heard.

“Thank you,” she said, and Luka thought she must have smiled, because the employee blushed a bit. 

“No problem miss,” he said. “I’ll just, um...go get a broom and a bucket to put all these in.”

“Thanks for being cool about it, man,” Luka smiled. 

“And thank you,” the girl said as the employee left, looking up at Luka with huge blue eyes and a soft smile. _Oh wow, no wonder that guy—no, nope. No._ “I should have said something but I couldn’t think anything except ‘I can not be the person who caused an akuma on Christmas Eve.’ Thank you so much. Uh, my name’s Marinette, by the way.” 

“I’m Luka,” he smiled. “Everyone gets a little tense this close to Christmas, especially retail workers. Most of the time they just need a reminder that they deserve to be treated like humans too.”

“That’s very insightful,” Marinette said, her smile growing a little. “You must be a very kind person, Luka.”

Luka’s face heated ( _oh no no no stop that_ ) and he shrugged. “I just try to put kindness out there and hope it will come back to me.” 

“Um, well, can I buy you a cup of coffee next door?” Marinette said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “So at least a little bit of kindness comes back to you today?” 

_Ugh, she’s too cute._ “I’d really like to,” Luka sighed, and meant it. “But I’m here on a mission and my sister will kill me if I blow her off.”

“Ah,” Marinette giggled. “A Christmas craft emergency?”

“Something like that,” Luka rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately this is way out of my wheelhouse and her very specific instructions are Greek to me. I was hoping I could ask someone, but—“ He shot a look back in the direction the worker had gone. “I think maybe I won’t bother him again.”

“Maybe I can help?” Marinette asked shyly, and Luka smiled, pulling up the message from Juleka and handing it over. Marinette frowned at it for a moment, and then her face lit up. “Oh, you need glitter, not embossing powder, you’re totally in the wrong section! I can show you—“ She backed up a step and turned, but her foot caught on another display rack and she pitched forward with a yelp.

Luka had seen the whole thing coming as soon as she stepped back, and was already lunging after her as she turned. He caught Marinette with one arm around her waist and caught the display rack with his other hand just in time to keep it from toppling over. For a moment they hung suspended in a battle of physics, but Marinette managed to shift her weight into him just enough to give him the leverage he needed to get her fully upright. 

“Nice reflexes,” Marinette said weakly, hunching her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I’m so clumsy. I shouldn’t be let out of the house.”

“You’re fine,” Luka said, breathing a little hard from the effort. Marinette was heavier than she looked. “Maybe just slow down a bit?” he suggested with a smile. 

“Right,” she giggled, handing back his phone, which she had somehow managed to hang on to the whole time. “That’s probably a reminder I could use more often.” 

_I’d be happy to—No, damnit!_

“Well,” he said, gesturing onward. “You were saying?”

Marinette smile. “It’s this way,” she said, setting off at a less frantic pace.

“I guess you come here often?” Luka asked as she guided them through the store. She was surprisingly efficient, when she wasn’t crashing into things.

“Pretty often,” Marinette said cheerfully. “I make a lot of things myself—more with fabric than paper, but you know, sometimes you just need a touch of glitter to make things perfect! What’s your sister making?”

"I have no idea, honestly,” Luka admitted. “She just said she needed it, so here I am.”

“Aww, you’re such a good brother,” Marinette said, reaching out and squeezing his arm lightly. His pulse jumped. He could almost hear Juleka now. _Ugh, you’re pathetic, a little attention from a pretty girl and you lose your mind completely._ “Here we go, it should be down here,” Marinette said, guiding him down an aisle that looked exactly like the one he had been in before.

A label on the shelf caught his eye. “Wait, isn’t this it?” Luka paused, reaching for the jar. 

“No, no, that’s coarse and your message said ultra fine,” Marinette said, grabbing his hand and tugging him further down the aisle. “It’ll be down here.” 

She didn’t let go of his hand as she studied the shelf, and he didn’t quite have the heart to pull it back, though he continued berating himself in his head. He’d never much minded his tendency to develop spontaneous crushes. It gave him something to think about, something happy for his daydreams instead of day to day worries and the crushing weight of the future. He accepts it, he enjoys it, and then he plays it out and lets it go when it’s time for it to drift away and most of the time the people he’s thinking about didn’t even know.

Not all the time though. The last one ended very badly, and rather publicly, and resulted in a lot of embarrassment for him. Luka had decided to make more of an effort to keep his heart to himself, for a little while. 

Apparently he’d let the bad habit go on too long, though, because he was having a lot of trouble resisting the pull now, and he didn’t even know this girl.

Marinette squealed in triumph and let go of his hand to go over to the shelf and reach up. She stood on her toes, and her shirt rode up a little, and Luka’s eyes widened slightly as she stretched. Marinette had great abs. No wonder she felt so heavy even though she looked so thin, if she was built like that.

“I can’t quite reach it, can you—” she turned to look at him, and Luka jolted as she caught him staring.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, blushing hard as he looked away. “I didn’t mean to stare, that’s just an impressive six pack you’ve got there.” _Smooth. Someone just kill me, please._

Marinette grinned and winked at him, and he was sure he actually did die a little bit inside. “I’m secretly a superhero,” she giggled, and he couldn’t help laughing in return. _No, no, don’t laugh, don’t watch her be cute, argh…_ “The glitter you need is right up there, but I’m not quite tall enough.” 

“Oh, yeah, I got it,” he said quickly, stepping up beside her. He picked up the jar that had been just out of her reach. “Wow, only one left.” Luka took out his phone and compared the label to the message Juleka had sent him. “Yes, this is it. Awesome.” He took a picture of the jar and sent it to Juleka, and then looked up and grinned. “Thanks, Marinette.” 

“I’m so glad I could help,” she grinned back, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. “Mission accomplished, yay!” 

“So, uh,” Luka began ( _no, don’t do it, don’t do it)_ , “Is that coffee still on the table? Although I think I might owe you now.” _Idiot_.

The way Marinette brightened was bad for his heart. “I’d love to. Um, let me grab what I needed and meet you at the checkout?” 

“Perfect,” Luka grinned. “See you soon.” _Don’t flirt, what are you doing, dumbass, haven’t we been through this enough times this year? Ugh, but she’s really sweet._

When Juleka found him at the cafe with Marinette, their cups were empty and so were the plates in front of them. Luka was watching Marinette lick one last bit of chocolate frosting on her fork with much more than polite interest, when Juleka’s hand crashed down on his shoulder, making him jump nearly a foot.

“Juleka!” he scowled, “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Maybe you’d have heard me coming if you weren’t _distracted_ ,” Juleka said, digging her fingers into his shoulder. “Hi, Marinette.”

“Hi Juleka,” Marinette grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

“Same,” Juleka replied, and he didn’t have to look up to know she was smiling. “Thanks for helping out my stupid brother. I’m assuming you’re the real hero here.”

“Oh. Oh!” Marinette’s eyes widened, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. “Oh my gosh, I should have realized.”

“Nah,” Luka shrugged. “Juleka looks way more like our mom. Unfortunately I take after our dad. I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“She’s in my class, dummy,” Juleka said dryly. “You remember the pictures? I showed you Marinette specifically because she made them happen.” She leaned down, and for once he was grateful for her signature mumble. “You thought she was cute then too.”

“Shut up,” he hissed back. 

Marinette started to say something and then jumped as her phone alarm went off. She looked at it and her eyes went huge. “Oh no, Madame Chamack’s party—I’m supposed to babysit! I’m so sorry Luka, Juleka, I have to go!”

“Careful,” Luka said, reaching out to catch her arm as she got tangled in her chair trying to get up. “Slow down, remember?”

“I really can’t this time,” she smiled. “But I’ll try to be careful at least.” She headed for the cafe entrance. “It was nice meeting you!” Marinette called over her shoulder as she fumbled the door open, waving, and Luka waved back, a familiar smile stretching his face, and he knew he was doomed.

Juleka saw it, and rolled her eyes. “Again, Luka, seriously? Ugh, you’re pathetic, a little attention from a pretty girl and you lose your mind completely _._ ”

Luka put his head down on his arms and groaned. “I know, right?” he grumbled. “I tried but she’s so cute and nice…”

Juleka gave an exasperated sigh, but then seemed to reconsider. “Well…” she said slowly. “Actually, you could do a lot worse than Marinette. She’d be good for you. She’s sweet, really smart, and a lot of fun. Even if she turned you down, assuming you got the guts to actually confess in the first place, she’d be nice about it.” Once again, he didn’t have to see the look on her face to know she was smirking. He could read the subtle changes of her dry tones just as easily as as his mother’s boisterous cries. “You’d get a lot of music out of a girl like her.”

“This is your idea of helping, isn’t it?” Luka said flatly. 

“No,” Juleka’s smirk widened. “Helping would be giving you her number, which I happen to have.” Luka sat up. “But what would I get out of this? If I’m going to have to listen to you sigh like a sap over my friend for a couple months, what’s in it for me?” 

Luka raised an eyebrow and took the vial of glitter out of his pocket. “Thanks to Marinette, I got the last jar,” he said smugly, holding it up. “How do you think Rose is going to react when you bring her the last jar of ultra fine unicorn rainbow sparkle blah blah whatever in Paris?” 

“Done,” Juleka said immediately, snatching at the jar. Luka moved it easily out of reach. Juleka sighed and pulled out her phone. 


	16. 23. Carols

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In New York for her job, Marinette is feeling lonely and homesick, until she runs into another Parisian who expected to spend Christmas alone.

New York was full of inspiration, and Marinette’s favorite place to find it was a little bistro she’d stumbled on a few weeks into her assignment. A wide variety of people came and went, and they often had live music. Tonight, though, she just couldn’t seem to get interested in anything, even though one of her favorites was playing, a nice-looking young man with pierced ears and dyed hair who played the guitar beautifully. He had a fun style and Marinette had sketched him more than once in the past, but tonight she was just staring into her drink, stirring it listlessly, her sketchbook idle under her other hand. The people swirled around her little table but she just didn’t feel like watching them. The music was nice, but it seemed a bit melancholy.

Or maybe that was just her. 

She was startled out of her thoughts as the blue-haired guitarist began to sing. He rarely did, and it was always a treat. Marinette loved his voice and the songs he chose always seemed to resonate with what she was feeling at the time. 

_I’m dreaming tonight of a place I love  
_ _Even more than I usually do  
_ _And although I know it’s a long road back  
_ _I promise you_

It was no different tonight. His voice was smooth and mellow with just the right amount of longing. He sounded like she felt, and the song went straight to her heart as the words penetrated.

 _I’ll be home for Christmas  
_ _You can count on me  
_ _Please have snow and mistletoe  
_ _And presents under the tree_

_Christmas Eve will find me where the love lights gleam_   
_I’ll be home for Christmas_   
_If only in my dreams_

She’d heard the song many times since Thanksgiving, often enough that she had largely stopped noticing it, but now it struck her dumb. 

Marinette stared at the singer, who remained calm and relaxed, but with just enough tension in his body and in his face for you to believe he really felt it. For a moment Marinette felt he was looking right at her. She reached up quickly to wipe away the tears that had begun to cluster on her eyelashes. She’d never heard this song played on an electric guitar before but it fit him, and he made it fit the song too. Somehow he captured the perfect tone of wistful longing hidden under a brave smile, and it robbed Marinette completely of her ability to be brave any longer. She hunched down in her chair, clutching her drink, and hoped no one would notice the tears. 

Marinette had no idea how long she’d been sniffling there when a shadow fell over her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad,” said a male voice, low and smooth and...with an accent? She looked up to find the singer standing next to her table, with his guitar case in his hand and a friendly, sympathetic smile. 

“Oh,” she said, sitting up straight and grabbing her napkin to wipe at her eyes. “You didn’t. Truly, I was already sad. You just sang what was in my heart, I guess.” Marinette tried to smile, and the man’s face brightened.

“Pardon me, but are you French? Your accent—” Marinette was having the same revelation; she hadn’t been wrong, though his singing had always been perfect, when he spoke, he did so with an accent; lighter than hers, but distinctive. 

“Yes, I’m from Paris,” Marinette smiled. “I’ve only been in New York a few months. And you?”

“I’m also from Paris,” he answered in French, and it sounded like music as much as anything he had done with his guitar. He gestured at the chair across from her. “May I join you? It’s been a while since I was able to speak to anyone from home and, well...it seems like maybe we’re both a little homesick tonight.”

“Please, go ahead,” Marinette said eagerly, and he sat down immediately, tucking his guitar case under the table.

“It’s been months since I’ve been able to speak French with anyone,” he said with a self-conscious smile. “It feels good.” He held out his hand across the table. “My name is Luka, by the way.”

“Marinette,” she answered, shaking his hand. Luka’s smile widened.

“That’s a very pretty French name.” He leaned his elbows on the table, clasping his hands in front of him. “What brings you to New York?”

“Work,” she replied. “I work at a fashion design firm and they’re based in Paris, but they sent me to New York to work on a collaboration with another company that’s based here.”

“They must trust you a lot,” Luka observed. “You must be very capable for them to send you here on your own.” Marinette felt a little fluttered at the compliment, and didn’t quite know how to respond. Luka continued, with a slightly knowing smile, “I’m also here for work, playing backup for my mother’s old partner. It’s been fun, but this time of year, you definitely start to feel the distance. My boss is having a big Christmas party but it’s not the same as Christmas at home.” Marinette wasn’t sure but she thought he was blushing a bit. “I feel foolish admitting it, but I’ve never been away from my mother and sister at Christmas, and I miss them.” He swallowed hard and looked away.

Marinette leaned forward and patted the hands he had clasped on the table. “I feel the same way. I’ve never been away from home at the holidays either. When I think about missing my father’s bûche de Noël...” Her throat closed up and she couldn’t say anymore. 

Luka took her hand before she could pull it back across the table and squeezed it, and for a moment they just sat, connected but not looking at each other as they both tried to pull themselves together. When their eyes finally met again, they both shared a sheepish smile. 

“You okay?” Luka asked, and then cleared his throat, letting go of her hand.

“Not really,” Marinette giggled weakly. “You?”

“Nope,” he laughed back. “All right, well, how about this. If it sounds good to you, I can go get us another round of drinks or some food, and you can tell me about your family, and I can tell you about mine, and maybe we can at least keep each other company for a little bit, enjoy having someone to talk to without having to stop and figure out a word every few minutes—” Marinette giggled, and he smiled. “Because I can tell you, they don’t teach you the names of musical equipment in standard English classes.”

“Ugh, it’s the same with the technical terms where I work,” Marinette sighed. “I know exactly what I want to say but sometimes I just can’t find the right way to say it and I feel so stupid!”

Luka’s grin broadened. “I’ll get us a menu.” 

Marinette’s tears were soon forgotten in the joy of having someone from home to talk to. Luka was a good listener. He asked insightful questions and seemed actually invested in the answers, and when he spoke he had interesting stories to tell. They shared plate after plate of food until they were really just nibbling for the sake of justifying their continued presence as they compared neighborhoods and swapped stories of their travels. 

“Seriously,” Luka grinned as Marinette laughed, her hands over her mouth and her eyes sparkling. “He rolls up outside our houseboat playing a piano on top of his giant tour truck—because of course he can’t have a bus like a normal rock star. And I’m just staring there like an idiot because it’s Jagged freaking Stone playing the piano on top of a truck outside my house, and then my mom just rips into him like he’s her scummy ex-boyfriend.” Luka paused for a sip of water. “Because apparently he was. And my sister and I are just completely freaking out but only on the inside because a Couffaine never sweats where you can see.” 

Marinette could barely breathe for laughing, but she waved for Luka to go on.

“So he finally gets down off the damn truck and they have something almost approximating a conversation between two normal human beings, and it turns out he needed a guitarist and he wanted my mom to come play with him. And she basically tells him to fuck off but he can have me if I want to go.” He shrugged. “The money was good and I’ve never been to the States so I said, sure, what the hell. And here I am, Jagged Stone’s backup guitarist.” He rolled his eyes. “I get why mom was so pissed at him, though, he fires me like once a week, but…” He shrugged. “I’m good at what I do, and I’m laid back enough not to care about most of his weird antics, so his agent always just sends me home for the day and tells me to come back in the morning. I’m pretty sure she thinks nobody else could put up with him for this long so she has a vested interest in keeping me around.”

“Still, that’s terrible,” Marinette giggled. “I met him once, actually, years ago. He probably doesn’t remember, we met as part of a school project, but he wanted these sunglasses shaped like the Eiffel tower and colored like the French flag. I ended up making them because I couldn’t find anything like what he described.”

“You made those?” Luka raised his eyebrows. “He loves those things. Never lets them out of his sight. He left them in a restaurant once and Penny had to drive a six hour round-trip to go get them.”

“Really?” Marinette blushed, eyes wide. “Wow. They were so...wow. Okay.” 

“Yeah,” Luka grinned. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him you’re in town unless you want me to. He’d probably have you making glasses shaped like the Empire State Building next.”

They both giggled at that, and when the laughter finally died, Luka sighed and rubbed his neck. “I should really get going.” He hesitated. “Could I give you my number? Maybe we could hang out again sometime.”

Marinette smiled. “I’d like that.” Luka grinned and they traded phones to type in their numbers. They split the check and both got up to go. She got a bit stuck trying to get her coat back on, but Luka stepped behind her to help, chuckling, and sorted her out quickly. 

They walked together at the door, and just outside, Marinette turned to Luka. 

“Luka, do you—“ she hesitated and bit her lip.

“Do I?” he prompted with a gentle smile.

“Do you want to come over and spend Christmas Eve with me tomorrow?” she blurted in a rush. “I mean, I know we just met but if you’re going to be alone and I’m going to be alone and neither of us _wants_ to be alone then…” She shrugged. “Why should we be? I can cook and maybe it won’t be the same but—“ she paused as Luka laughed quietly.

“You don’t know how nice it is to hear somebody talk that fast and still be able to follow,” Luka chuckled, and though the laughter faded, the warmth remained in his smile. “And as for us being strangers, you’ve been listening to my music for a long time, so I think you know me better than you realize.”

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly. He’d noticed her, all those times he played?

Luka cleared his throat, glancing away for a moment before bringing his gaze back to hers. “I’d love to spend Christmas Eve with you, Marinette. Text me the details? I’ll pick up some wine and bring my guitar and neither of us has to be alone.”

Marinette felt all bubbly inside at the thought of cooking for another person after all this time. Suddenly she felt motivated to clean up and find a nice tablecloth and put up some lights. All of those things she had always loved but couldn’t see the point of with no one to share them with. “Great! Yes, okay. I’ll see you then!” She had so much to do, she needed to plan a menu and make a grocery list and—“Bye!” she called with a bright smile, setting off with a bounce in her step.

Luka watched her go for a moment, his own smile growing. She practically sparkled as she bobbed down the street, clearly lost in her plans and looking so happy...

Yeah, he wasn’t going to feel bad about ditching Jagged’s giant Christmas party at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there will be a couple more parts to this one for the prompts Tradition and Blankets, so stay tuned.


	17. 20. Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continued from chapter 16 (23. Carols) - Marinette is determined to put together a traditional French Christmas for her evening with Luka...even if it means going a bit overboard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one skates a little bit close to NSFW at the end, but nothing explicit and not for very long. Just you know, two lonely people being lonely and emotional together, and things happen.
> 
> Also everything I learned about French Christmas came from the internet, so take it with a grain of salt.

Marinette had a Plan. She was now a woman on a mission for a traditional French Christmas Eve dinner. She felt bad because she knew she was blowing up Luka’s phone with all her texts, but he seemed more amused than annoyed as far as she could tell. So far, she had asked him about food sensitivities and preferences, and what he wanted to drink with dinner besides wine, if there was any type of food his family traditionally had for Christmas, and his favorite color. She was standing in the grocery store pouting at the lack of oysters when _he_ actually texted _her_. 

_Should I dress up?_

_No, no_ she sent, and then changed her mind.  
 _Well  
_ _Maybe a little bit? Not like, coat and tie, but maybe a button-down? I’m going to wear a dress so_  
 _But it’s just us, so whatever you’re comfortable with_

Luka sent back, _If you’re making dinner, I can handle wearing a nice shirt._

Marinette passed the dairy aisle and her eyes lit up with an idea. She texted him, _If you want, you can stay over. We can do Christmas breakfast in the morning!_

It took her about thirty seconds to realize how that sounded and quickly she added, _On the couch! I didn’t mean that how it sounded. Just on the couch. Sorry!_ Marinette groaned and dropped her head on her arms on the handle of her grocery cart. Ugh, she was so lame.

Her phone buzzed and she was almost afraid to look at it, but finally she peeked at it through her fingers. _I got it, I got it. You’re a funny girl, Marinette. I’d love breakfast if that’s really okay. I’ll pack a bag. For the couch. Promise._

She blew out a relieved breath, and added ingredients for breakfast to her cart. She winced a little at the checkout, but she was normally pretty frugal, and it was worth it for just tonight. Because she had a Plan.

A plan that turned out to be a bit more challenging than she expected, getting everything ready in her apartment’s tiny kitchen, but challenging was nothing to Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and when Luka arrived that evening, Marinette opened the door in breathless excitement, a Christmas plaid apron still over her sparkly red sweater dress. “Hi!” She beamed, and without thinking, she rose up on her toes to offer him la bise like he was an old friend. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it, bending to meet her and returning the gesture easily. He straightened and gave her his slow smile as he offered her the wine he had brought. 

“It smells amazing in here, Marinette,” Luka commented, and Marinette beamed at him. 

“I couldn’t get everything I wanted,” she said, bustling into the kitchen to start carrying plates out. “I couldn’t find any oysters, and I had to get turkey instead of goose, but I have salmon and foie gras, and the bread isn’t as good as Papa’s but I think it’s all right.” 

Her small table was covered with a deep red cloth, knotted at the ends, and three candles in mismatched but harmonizing candlesticks stood waiting to be lit. 

Luka was looking at her with unrestrained wonder as she got the matches and lit the candles. “You planned and pulled all of this off in one day? You—“ He shook his head. “You’re amazing, Marinette. I can’t believe you got up a full Réveillon just for the two of us.”

Marinette felt a little foolish, all of a sudden. “It is a bit much, isn’t it,” she admitted, twisting the hem of her apron. “I probably went overboard. I just wanted everything to be perfect.” She glanced up at the garlands she had hung around the room, and the lights that framed her windows.

Luka chuckled and gave her a soft look that made her blush. “Marinette, I could tell from the moment I met you that you’re the kind of person who puts her whole heart into everything she does. I’m just impressed you managed to do so much in so little time.”

Marinette was still embarrassed but pleased by his praise. She saw him notice her tiny tree on a side table, and smile at the small package wrapped in blue under it, with his name on it in big, enthusiastic letters. Without commenting, he took a small package from his pocket and placed it under the tree as well.

She got him the corkscrew and let him serve the (very nice) wine, and soon they were sitting down to enjoy their dinner. Marinette told him about the meals she had at home with her family as they sipped the wine and made their leisurely way through the food. Luka was as good a listener as she remembered, and he seemed interested in everything she said as she talked about the food and how it compared to her family’s normal dinner. 

“We’re not nearly so fancy as this,” Luka commented, gesturing to the table with his fork. “My mother’s not big on formality, and we’re a little limited with the just the galley for cooking. It sounds nice when you talk about it though,” he smiled. “I always figured it would be kind of stuffy, but it sounds cozy. Like this,” he gestured to the meal between them. “This is nice.” 

“It can get stuffy and boring when you have a lot of people,” Marinette admitted. “We’ve had some awful ones when there were a lot of relatives in town, but usually it’s just Mama and Papa and me, and then it’s like this. No rush, but no waiting for everyone else to finish either, and it’s all just—“ she shrugged. “Comfortable.”

“I like comfortable,” Luka agreed. “This has really been great, Marinette, truly.”

“It’s not over yet!” Marinette proclaimed, hopping up from the table and running into the kitchen. She could barely contain her excitement as she set the bûche de Noël on the table. “It might not be as good as Papa’s,” she said cheerfully, “but it was as close as I could get.”

“It looks fantastic,” Luka said, impressed. 

“Papa’s might taste a little better but even he can’t beat me for decorating.” She handed Luka the cake knife.

A short time later they both set down their forks and looked at each other in defeat.

“It’s amazing, Marinette, but I really can’t eat any more,” Luka sighed. 

“Honestly, me neither,” Marinette giggled. 

“Let me help you clean up.”

It did take quite a while to get all the leftovers packed away in the fridge. Marinette made sure to put some in a container for Luka to take home later. Fortunately Marinette’s apartment had a dishwasher, so they only had a few things left to wash by hand.

“I didn’t actually pick the apartment or most of the stuff in it,” she confessed to Luka as they stood washing up at the sink. She kept trying not to be too obvious about looking at his forearms while his sleeves were rolled up. “It was all selected and paid for by the company for as long as I’m on this assignment.”

“I’m sharing a place with two other guys from the band,” Luka said ruefully. “I’m used to living in small shared spaces, but it’s different when it’s not family. Sometimes I just need some space and quiet, and it’s a little hard to find when you’re sharing space with rock stars in New York City.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come hang out here when you need to,” Marinette said absently as she scrubbed the last dish that wouldn’t fit in the washer. “It’s almost _too_ quiet most of the time.” 

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Luka asked admiringly. “You just have to offer help if you can.”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said quickly, embarrassed again. “I’m a fixer. I don’t always think things through before I offer. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I know we just met—“

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Luka interrupted. “And really, I appreciate the offer. I might take you up on it. And...I hope this comes out right.” He sighed, and Marinette was surprised to see a bit of color appear on his cheeks. “I don’t feel like we just met. You know, sometimes you meet people and you connect right away. Sometimes you meet people and no matter how long you know them, you just don’t quite vibe.” He smiled at her, a little tentatively. “It feels easy, being with you.” He gently took the dish Marinette was holding and began to dry it off while she blinked at him stupidly. “I hope that didn’t sound weird,” he muttered, shuffling his feet.

“No, it—I get what you mean. Really.” She smiled. 

“Well, now that that’s done—“ Luka set the dish on the drying rack and turned to her, with a broad grin that somehow still looked a little shy. “You want a little taste of a Couffaine Christmas?” 

Marinette giggled. “What do you have in mind?”

“Are you a good dancer?”

“Ah...no, not really.” 

“Perfect,” he said with a wink. “Where’s your music?”

It was a little embarrassing at first, dancing silly with Luka, but he joked and teased and had no problem looking ridiculous himself, and soon she was giggling too hard to be self-conscious. 

“You have pretty good taste in music,” he told her as they bopped around the room. 

“Actually credit goes to my friend Nino,” she admitted, swishing her hair and swinging her hips without a care in the world. “He put this playlist together and sent it to me to, and I quote, ‘keep you from getting too depressed at Christmas.’” She giggled. “I’m not sure that this is what he intended, but it works!”

When she began to protest that she was getting tired, Luka swept her up in a waltz hold and swirled her around the small space. His hold was gentle but strong and firm, and she relaxed into it and let him whirl her around until they were dizzy. 

“Christmas at your house seems like a lot of fun,” Marinette laughed as she leaned into him and waited for the room to stop spinning. 

“It’s not _quite_ the same without the boat rocking and Juleka trying to trip me every few minutes,” Luka grinned, leaning on her as well as he swayed slightly on his feet. “For a Couffaine Christmas Dance Party that was pretty tame. But I think I can live without hitting the deck four or five times and getting beer spilled all over me.”

“Do you live on a boat or in a club?” Marinette teased. 

“It’s hard to tell the difference sometimes,” Luka admitted, pulling Marinette into a slow dance with him as a soft piano intro played and a female voice crooned “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…” Marinette leaned her head on his shoulder, glad to have a breather as they swayed lightly. 

“Thank you, Marinette,” he said near her ear. “This is so much better than what I had planned. This is—this is perfect, really. Thank you for sharing Christmas with me.”

Marinette smiled and cuddled a little closer. Luka was warm and comfortable, and maybe she should have been more self-conscious about being held by someone who was practically a stranger, but...he was right, what he’d said in the kitchen. He didn’t feel like a stranger. 

“So…” Luka began, and she could hear amusement in his voice. “I do have one question.”

“Hmm?” Marinette lifted her head to look at him, and he nodded upwards. 

“Is that French good luck mistletoe or American kissing mistletoe?” He grinned. Marinette gasped for a moment and then laughed.

“I completely forgot the tradition was different here. I guess we might as well be thorough.” She rose up on her toes to peck his lips, but he lowered to meet her and somehow made it something softer and a little longer than she intended, though still little more than a quick press of lips. Still, it sent a jolt of warmth through her body that she hadn’t been expecting.

Then again, she reflected as he pulled back, she hadn’t been kissed in a long time, so maybe she should have expected it.

Luka grinned, oblivious to her suddenly wobbly knees. “Well, so much for the kissing, and I certainly feel lucky,” he chuckled. “I think we’ve got our bases covered.” He took a step back, hands sliding down her arms to take her hands. “Usually about this time we’ve all had enough party, so we’d get out our instruments and take turns playing. Can I play for you, Marinette?”

Marinette was delighted with the idea. “Yes, please! Hot chocolate?”

He shook his head. “I’m good, but feel free. I’ll get the guitar in tune and meet you on the couch.”

Marinette was actually glad for a little distance from those warm eyes and that gentle, knowing smile and those rough, strong hands, as she went to the kitchen and served herself a mug of hot chocolate. She turned down the lights, blew out the candles on the table, and flicked on the apartment’s little gas fireplace, which came to life with a faint _fwoom_. 

“Now that’s atmosphere,” Luka chuckled, plucking a string and adjusting the tuning peg. “I brought the acoustic because it’s more apartment friendly than my electric, and now I’m glad. It definitely goes better with the vibe tonight.” 

“I always love listening to you play at the bistro,” Marinette smiled as she sat down on the couch, tucking her feet up under her. “You play with so much passion.”

“I always love it when you come to listen,” he said, darting a look at her from under his lashes without actually looking away from the guitar. “When I play with Jagged, the audiences are huge and nobody’s there just to listen to me. I miss that connection, so I play at a couple small places like that around town. I really like it when you come because you seem so invested in the music. It’s nice to see someone enjoy it so much.”

“You...noticed me?”

He smiled, still not looking up from the guitar. “You’re hard to miss, Marinette. Now I’m only sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner, but you always seemed so engrossed in what you were doing that I didn’t want to interrupt.” He glanced at her again, and it was hard to tell in the firelight but she thought there was a little pink in his cheeks. “But with eyes like those?” He reached out and curled a finger under her chin, lifting her face to the light. “Yeah. I noticed you. Every time.” He dropped his hand quickly and strummed slowly and deliberately down the strings. “There, that sounds about right. Anything you want to hear?” 

Marinette shook her head. “Anything. You pick.” 

So Luka played, and Marinette listened, sinking more fully into the couch as the music relaxed her. 

“That was lovely,” she said when he paused. 

“That was you,” he smiled, and shrugged slightly when she turned wide eyes on him. “It’s a thing I do sometimes, just for fun. Like your sketches, only with music.”

“That’s so cool, Luka,” she said in surprise. “Can you play your mom?”

He wasn’t expecting that, plainly, but then he smiled brightly. “The electric suits her better, but I’ll give it a shot,” he said, turning back to the strings. The tune he played was lively, almost jumpy, though a little bit...hard? It had a Celtic feel to it and the rhythm rolled like the ocean.

“This one’s my sister,” he murmured, changing to a slow and almost somber tune, quiet, but rich, with a thread of mischief. When it ended Luka lifted his head and smiled at her. “Thanks for asking. Playing them actually makes them feel a little closer.” 

“I wonder what my parents would sound like,” Marinette mused aloud, turning the cup in her hands. 

“Tell me about them,” Luka said, picking a few seemingly random chords. “Let’s see what we can do together.” 

In the end Marinette brought her sketchbook over, and sat pressed to his side, turning through the sketches she had done before she left home. 

“Hang on,” Luka stopped her. “Is that me?”

“Oh,” Marinette ducked her head shyly. “Yeah, I’ve sketched you a couple of times now.”

“May I see?” he asked, and though it made her face burn, she opened the book fully. Luka put his arm across the couch behind her so he could lean closer. 

It wasn’t a cleaned up sketch and there was no color, and parts of it were indistinct. His eyes and his hands were clear, and his smile, and the rest of it was more of an impression than a picture. Marinette held her breath while Luka studied it, but he only looked up and said, “Thank you,” and let her turn back to the beginning of the book, to the pictures she’d been looking for. 

These were complete and meticulous, carefully done to help her cherish the memory of home while she was away. Her father laughing in the bakery, her mother at the register, the two of them reclining together on the couch. Their faces, lovingly rendered, her father’s squinty, happy eyes above his thick mustache, and the warmth of her mother’s smile.

Luka smiled softly. “You can really see the love in these,” he observed. “Not just their love, that’s obvious, but the way you love them. All the little details you worked to get just right.” It felt natural to lean against him, to seek his support as her heart began to ache for home again. Luka reached over and gently closed the book. “I think I can try now,” he murmured into her hair. “If you still want me to.” 

“Yes, please.” 

Luka waited for her to move off him, and then drew back to pick up his guitar again. He seemed to sit thinking for a moment, trying out different chords. Then he flashed a quick smile at her, and began to play. 

Marinette clasped her hands over her heart and squeezed her eyes closed against the tears that threatened as Luka played, first a warm, passionate, boisterous tune, and then adding in a calmer, more relaxed and level harmony. 

“What do you think?” he asked when the notes faded away. “Did we get close?”

“That was beautiful,” Marinette quavered. “It was just like them.” 

“Hey now,” Luka said, setting down the guitar and scooting closer. “It wasn’t supposed to make you sad.” He touched her face tenderly and then slipped his hand to her shoulder, applying a gentle pressure. She obeyed it, leaning on him and letting him fold her up in his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “This is why I’m here. So neither of us has to have these feelings alone.” 

“We were having such a nice time,” Marinette sniffled.

“It’s still nice,” Luka said, reaching to grab her a tissue from the end table. “It’s wonderful. Thank you for inviting me into your home and going to all this trouble. It’ll take more than a few fully justified tears to ruin any of it.”

“Can we just stay like this for a bit?”

“Of course.”

Eventually she calmed, her breathing evening out, and she moved her face out of his shirt to lay it on his shoulder. It felt so good to be held. And Luka could have been so many things, this man she’d known only for a couple of days, but he was kind and sweet and gentle and genuine and just...wonderful. She found herself staring at the opening of his collar, and just above, the hollow of his throat.

Without questioning the impulse too much, she turned her head just enough to kiss the spot. She liked the way it felt, both his warm skin against her lips and the sudden catch in his breath. She sat up a little more, nose and lips gliding up his skin until she found another soft place to kiss below his jaw. He swallowed and tilted his head slightly, which she took as permission to continue, laying soft kisses along the column of his neck. 

Luka pulled away, just far enough to see her face. He cupped her jaw and rubbed his thumb lightly against her cheek, the firelight making his eyes look dark. 

Or maybe it wasn’t the firelight, because when her lips parted to speak, he kissed her, and it was soft but firm and wanting. That warm, fizzy feeling from before came rushing back, even stronger as Luka began to brush tender fingers across her face and neck.

They exchanged slow, deep kisses, gravitating toward each other, arms slowly circling and tightening, bodies drawing closer until they were pressed as close as they could get. Luka’s hand slipped down under her thigh, tugging lightly. Marinette moved, shifting into him, allowing him to guide her knee across his lap. Her fingers slid into his hair and his hands massaged her thighs before slipping up her sides and down again. 

Her teeth scraped his lower lip and he gasped, his hips jerking up into her and she broke away with a breathless cry and for a moment they both hung, panting, undecided. 

“Marinette?” Luka prompted, voice raw. She didn’t answer, hyper aware of everywhere they were touching, the very movement of his breath enough to fuel the fire in her belly. 

“We can stop now and I can still sleep on the couch if that’s what you want,” he said softly. 

Marinette buried her face in his shoulder for a moment, gathering her courage, and then lifted it to look him in the eye. “What if that’s not what I want?”

He held her gaze for a moment, as if waiting for something, maybe giving her a chance to back out. Marinette let out a shaky breath, but didn’t look away. “I don’t want to stop. And I don’t want you to sleep on the couch.” 

“Okay,” he breathed into the barely-there space between them as he brushed his lips against hers again. 

Despite her bold words, part of her was panicking as they sank down in her bed together, because what was she thinking? At the same time it felt like the most right, most natural end to what otherwise would have been a lonely night full of tears. Though eager and near shaking with want, he was as gentle and considerate as he had been all night. It made her feel powerful and wanted and treasured and safe all at once, and when it was over, all the wanting and tension spent, the gentleness, the care for her remained, and he asked her in that same soft way if she wanted him to leave. 

“No,” she whispered, drawing him back down to her, “Stay with me. Didn’t we agree not to be alone on Christmas?” Luka relaxed back down into the bed with a sigh that sounded like relief, slipping one strong arm around her waist. She traced it lightly with her fingers as he kissed her shoulder and murmured “Joyeaux Noël, Marinette.”

She glanced up at the clock smiled, seeing it was well after midnight, and officially Christmas Day. “Joyeaux Noël, Luka.”


	18. 21. Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continued from chapters 16 (23. Carols) and 17 (20. Traditions) - Luka and Marinette wake up together on Christmas Day.

Luka woke immediately to the familiar buzz of his phone on the nightstand, groping quickly to answer it before it could wake Marinette. 

“Juleka, you bitch,” he muttered, rolling onto his back and angling the phone to show nothing but his face, though it was dark enough in Marinette’s bedroom that the image wouldn’t be clear anyway. “It’s four in the morning.” 

“Merry Christmas to you too, asshole,” his sister said affectionately, smirking. “Sue me for missing you.”

“I’m gonna hang up,” Luka said blearily. “And you’re not gonna call me back for at least four more hours.” 

“Oh is that so—“

At that moment Marinette whined, rolled over and scooted close, stretching one arm around his stomach and squirming until she was sprawled half over him, head his chest. “Luka?” she mumbled. “Don’t leave, it’s cold.”

“Hey,” he whispered, moving the phone to keep her out of view and curling his arm around her. “I’m not going anywhere. Go back to sleep.”

“Mmm.” She did, hooking one leg over his. 

“Didn’t realize you had company,” Juleka said with smug amusement. 

Luka sighed. “Four hours, Juleka. Minimum.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

“I miss you too,” he said softly. “Merry Christmas, Jules.” 

“Merry Christmas, Luka.”

He ended the call and was able to stretch just enough to get it onto the nightstand without disturbing Marinette. Then he relaxed back with a sigh, and closed his eyes, marveling for a moment at the absolute weirdness of his life. It must have taken some Hallmark movie level Christmas magic to get him to this place, sated in every way and with his own personal Christmas miracle wrapped up in a short red nightie complete with a bow cuddled up on top of him. 

Juleka called again four hours later on the dot. Luka managed to slither out from under Marinette, leaving her laying across his spot on the bed. Remembering what she’d said about being cold, he snagged a thick blanket they had tossed off the bed the night before and covered her with it. He pulled his pants on, picked up his phone, and went to sit at the table, closing the bedroom door quietly behind him. 

He sat down at Marinette’s table with the phone and gave his sister a smile. “Hey.”

Juleka raised an eyebrow. “Where are you? Not at your place.”

“No, a friend and I decided to spend Christmas together since we were both on our own, I’m at her place.” 

The other eyebrow joined the first, as he knew it would. “Ah. Didn’t know you had a friend like that at the moment.” 

“It’s a recent development,” he sighed, sitting back. “And honestly after last night I’m not sure what we are anymore.” He couldn’t help a small smile at the memory. “I don’t think either of us had actually planned on it ending the way it did, but...it was a really good night.”

Perceptive as ever, Juleka asked, “So is this a one-time we were lonely thing or…?”

He shrugged. “We haven’t had time to talk about it.” After a moment he added. “It didn’t feel like a one-time thing. Not to me, anyway.” He sighed and folded his arms on the table, resting his cheek on them. “I really hope it wasn’t.”

Juleka sighed, and that one exhalation carried a world of meaning. Luka heard in it _don’t get hurt_ and _I want you to be happy_ and _I love you even when you’re stupid_ and smiled. “So what’s going on there?” he asked, and grinned as she rolled her eyes.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there talking to Juleka, his mom making occasional appearances behind her but never staying still long enough to say much, when a blanket settled over his bare shoulders. When he looked up, Marinette smiled at him, hair wet from the shower, wrapped in a shiny red and black polka dotted robe, and he whispered a quick thanks. 

“Tea?” she mouthed, and he nodded. She went into the kitchen and he turned back to his conversation with Juleka, who was smirking at him again. 

“I guess I better let you go since your _friend_ is awake. Presumably you have better things to do than talk to me,” she said.

Luka just shook his head. “I really miss you guys, Jules. Tell mom I love her, okay?”

“We miss you too,” Juleka sighed. “It’s not the same without you. Be safe and happy, okay Luka?”

“I’ll do my best,” he smiled but he knew it was lopsided. “Bye, Juleka.”

“Bye, bro.”

He hung up the phone just as Marinette set a cup of tea on the table beside him. “Thanks,” he said thickly, and then cleared his throat. Marinette put her arms around him from behind and hugged him tight. Luka swallowed and put a hand on her arm, turning his face to nuzzle her cheek. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I miss them, but...well, I can’t say I wish they were here at the moment.”

Marinette giggled. “That might be a little awkward.”

She pulled away, sat down next to him at the table, and sipped her tea, eyes flicking to him and away shyly. Tentatively, he reached for her hand. She moved it to meet him and let him tangle their fingers together.

“It’s still pretty early,” Luka said. “We can go back to bed if you want.” 

Her cheeks colored, and he amended, “Or you can go and I can stay out here. Or if you need some space and you want me to go, you can say so.” 

She gave him an incredulous look. “Why do you keep acting like I’m going to kick you out? You haven’t done anything wrong.” She laughed a little breathlessly, blushing. “Nothing wrong at all,” she muttered, as a little shiver went through her. Luka’s heart clenched and his own face heated.

“I just want you to be comfortable,” he said, squeezing her fingers gently. 

“I am. Comfortable, that is. With you.” She was still blushing, but she managed to smile at him. “Shouldn’t I be?”

“That’s not up to me,” he chuckled. 

“You gave me every opportunity to stop last night and I didn’t want to. It was a little fast,” she admitted. “But that wasn’t any more your fault than mine.“ She blushed. “You’ve been nothing but kind and careful with me, and I appreciate that, but…” Marinette shrugged. “I knew what I was doing. Maybe it wasn’t the smart thing and maybe I should regret it, but so far, I don’t. ” 

Luka relaxed a little. “Good. Me neither.”

“Good,” she smiled. “It was nice. I mean—” Her blush went from pink to red. “I mean. Nice isn’t the right word for that part but I mean…after. After the better than nice part, it was nice. To just be held all night.” 

Luka bit his lip to keep his smile under control. She was too cute for words. “Can I hold you now?” 

“Yes please,” she sighed, standing up, and he opened his arms for her, wrapping them both up in the blanket as she slid into his lap and snuggled up against him. “I...actually don’t do this kind of thing very often,” she admitted. That wasn’t really a shock; he’d suspected from some of her reactions last night that it had been a long time since her last partner. “I guess...I don’t know how I’m supposed to act? So I’m just kind of...going with how I feel.” she shrugged. “It’s kind of nice, actually,” she added. “Usually I overthink everything.” She sighed. “Just for today, can we just...let it be?” Marinette smiled tentatively. “I mean, I’m happy and you seem happy, and neither of us are lonely, so...mission accomplished, regardless? Can we just...be happy today, and figure out the rest later?”

“Sure,” he said, laying his head on her shoulder. “Can I still kiss you?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “I definitely want kisses. And then I’ll make breakfast, and then maybe more kisses and cuddling?” She perked up. “And presents! It’s Christmas morning after all.”

“I’m on board,” Luka smiled, and leaned up to kiss her. He wanted to do more; he wanted to slide his hands over her and nibble on her neck, but he wasn’t sure where the boundaries were anymore, and he really, really didn’t want to mess this up, even if he wasn’t sure what _this_ was anymore. 

Just let it be what it is. He was good at that, really. No problem. Luka sighed.

Marinette slid the fingers of her free hand through his hair and he hummed appreciatively. “This is nice,” she said softly, and he agreed. Screw Jagged and his job and everything else in New York; he never wanted to leave this spot right here where her neck met her shoulder and her pulse beat steadily against lips he wasn’t quite brave enough to press into her. She was so warm and soft and comfortable…

Reluctantly he lifted his head when she tapped his shoulder. “I should go start breakfast. You can go shower if you want, and then breakfast will be ready around the time you’re done.”

“Okay,” he sighed, and let her slide out of his lap. Luka leaned his elbow on the table for a moment, watching her, and admitted to himself that he was in deep. He was in so deep. He’d watched her watch him for so long, searching for those stunning eyes every time he played at the bistro, and he’d talked himself out of approaching her a thousand times only to look for her the next time and have the same argument with himself all over again. He wondered idly if this is was what he’d really been afraid of the whole time—finding out she actually was as amazing as she seemed, and falling hard. 

Luka sighed at his own idiocy, then he got up and retrieved his bag, and went to shower. 

He felt a little more clear-headed when he was out of he shower; still tired, but not so fuzzy. Luka took a deep breath as he approached the kitchen and reminded himself that this was like any other new relationship. Pay attention, assume nothing, ask first. It didn’t have to be complicated.

Marinette smiled at him as he came into the kitchen. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked. 

“I’m almost done,” she said. “You could put some plates and silverware out for us. How do you like your eggs?” 

“Ah…” Luka said blankly, as if he’d forgotten what an egg even was. “However you like yours is fine. I’m not picky.” 

Marinette gave him a pursed-lips look that he didn’t quite understand but thought was damn cute. “Are you just saying that because you don’t want to make trouble?”

Luka laughed. “No, I honestly don’t know? I guess I like scrambled eggs, that’s usually what they serve in diners.” 

“Diners?” Marinette sniffed, sounding offended. “Diners.” She shook her head, muttering to herself about eating habits, and Luka grinned. “Do you cook for yourself at all?” she demanded.

“Rarely,” he admitted. “I mean I can cook some basics, but Juleka does most of the cooking at home because she gets home first, and working for Jagged, there’s almost always a catering service around. I get by.”

“Get by,” she huffed. “Unbelievable.”

Luka chuckled. “Baby I’ll eat here any time you feel like feeding me. Your cooking beats the hell out of anything else I’ve had since I left France. Probably before, actually. Juleka’s, you know, competent but she’s not going to win any awards.”

“Baby?” Marinette looked back and raised her eyebrows.

“Sorry, that kind of slipped out,” Luka said sheepishly, running a hand through his still-damp hair. 

“Is that what you call everybody?” she asked a little stiffly. 

“No,” Luka smiled at his feet. “Definitely not. Sweetheart or babe, sometimes, with fans, because they usually like a little flirting, but not baby.”

That made her blush, and Luka cleared his throat. “Plates?” he asked, and she pointed to a cabinet. 

She was a little quiet during breakfast, and Luka was worried he’d overstepped. She brightened up as soon as she remembered there were presents to open.

“Take the blanket to the couch, we’ll probably need it,” Marinette instructed. “Hot chocolate?” Luka was suddenly treated to a searing memory of the taste of chocolate in her kiss last night. His lack of immediate response seemed to unnerve her. “I don’t usually drink this much hot chocolate,” she said, glancing at him as if she were embarrassed. “But it’s cold and it’s Christmas and I couldn’t find any decent apple cider.”

“I’m not offended that you drink hot chocolate,” Luka laughed. “I just prefer coffee—”

“I can make coffee,” Marinette said, brightening, but Luka shook his head.

“I’m good right now, really.” 

He took the blanket to the couch as she had asked and agreed with her that they might need it. The apartment wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was a little chilly, either because the heat couldn’t quite keep up with the steadily dropping temperatures outside or because Marinette kept it low to begin with. Luka shook the blanket out and put one side of it over his shoulders. Marinette came with her mug of hot chocolate in one hand and the two small gifts balanced in the crook of her other arm. Luka reached up to take them so she could sit down without spilling her drink, and helped her tuck the other end of the blanket around her. 

He gave her her package and she wiggled excitedly, but put it down in her lap, opting to sip her hot chocolate as she directed, “Open yours first.” Luka smiled at her enthusiasm and began to open the paper. “It’s not my best work,” she said, bouncing slightly. “I didn’t have a lot of time, but I wanted to do something.”

Luka paused, looking at her. “You made me something? Like, yourself?”

Marinette rolled her eyes behind her mug. “Well, I couldn’t exactly ask the elves to do it.” 

Luka took a slow breath. “You didn’t have to get me anything at all,” he commented as he finished opening it.

“Giving presents is part of what makes Christmas fun! Besides, you got me something.”

“You did all that work to make me dinner, it’s hardly the same,” he protested, but forgot what he was saying as he lifted a length of soft black fabric from the package. A flash of color caught his eye and he picked up the ends, neatly hemmed and embroidered with musical motifs in metallic silver and blue thread. 

“Not your best work?” he managed, stunned. “Marinette, how did you even have _time_ to—”

“It’s not actually much,” Marinette said, shrinking a little. “Scarves are so simple. Just some scrap fabric in a nice material, and a little hemming and a little embroidery. Really the machine does all the work, I just had to pick the pattern, and...well I know we don’t...or at least we didn’t, know each other very well, so I just went with the obvious in colors that I knew would go with anything.” She reached up and twitched the lock of blue hair that lay by his ear. “Anything that would go with the rest of you, anyway.” 

Turning it over in his hands, he found her name in fancy embroidery in a corner. 

“I sign all my work,” she murmured absently. 

“As all artists should.” Luka looked back at her. “Thank you. This is probably the nicest thing I’ve ever owned. It’s really beautiful.” 

Marinette turned red, and she took the scarf from his hands and wrapped it around his neck, arranging it carefully. “It’ll do,” she said with a nod, and he wasn’t sure what kind of look he was giving her, but it made her look away quickly and grab the package in her lap, still blushing brightly. 

Marinette opened the package and gasped a the small box of colored pencils inside.

“I hope they’re okay,” Luka said hesitantly, a little nervous about the gift. He’d wanted to give her something useful, and he knew quality art supplies were expensive, especially when you had to replace them as often as Marinette seemed to. 

“This is a really thoughtful gift, Luka,” Marinette smiled, touching his arm. “Thank you. These are my favorite brand, too.” 

“Good,” Luka sighed in relief. “I saw you drawing all the time, but I couldn’t remember the name, just the logo on the box. The lady at the art store helped me out. I’m glad we got it right, I know the ones you have were getting short.”

“I...I can’t believe you noticed that.” Marinette looked up at him in surprise.

Now it was Luka’s turn to blush. “I told you I’ve been noticing you for a while. A long time, actually. Not in like, a creepy way, I swear, but you were pretty and you liked the music so much and your drawings, what I could see anyway, they were cool. I—” He bit his lip, not sure how much he should admit to. “I maybe had a little bit of a crush from afar kind of thing going. You seemed like a really cool person and I wanted to talk to you, but our schedule is all over the map, and I’m not in New York permanently anyway, and I just...wasn’t sure starting anything was a good idea.” He gave a lopsided smile. “If I’d realized you were from Paris, I might have talked to you sooner.” Maybe he would have asked her out properly, taken her on dates and wooed her the way he should have, and maybe what happened last night would have had all the weight of a proper relationship behind it and he wouldn’t be feeling so jumpy. Marinette didn’t say anything for a long moment. Luka nudged her.

“Did you still want those kisses?” he asked, playfully, though he was dead serious. “Or have I scared you off for life with my apparent stalker tendencies?”

“You’re observant,” Marinette said, still looking at the pencils in her hand. “That’s not a bad thing.” She smiled up at him ruefully. “If you can handle my extreme enthusiasm and tendency to go way overboard, I think I can handle your slightly freaky attention to detail.” Luka laughed. “And I definitely still want those kisses,” she said, setting the pencils on the table. 

Luka pulled her close under the blanket and kissed her, making a small happy noise when she cuddled up close and slipped her fingers in his hair. He kept his kisses soft and tender, and she melted more into him with each one. 

“I’m never going to be able to eat chocolate again without thinking about you,” he sighed, savoring her taste on his tongue. 

“Sorry?” she said breathlessly, playing with the scarf still around his neck.

Luka took her face in her hands and kissed her deeply. “Don’t be,” he told her, pulling away just a little. “It just means I’ll enjoy chocolate a lot more from now on.” 

Her cheeks heated under his hands, and he put his forehead against hers, gathering his courage. “Thank you for sharing Christmas with me, Marinette. I...” He hesitated and took a deep breath. “I know we said we weren’t going to put a label on this today, and I’m not trying to change that. We can take as long as you need. But I need you to know that I like you, Marinette. I like spending time with you. I like our talks and...I didn’t come here expecting, or even hoping, for last night to go the way it did, but I liked that too.” He rubbed his thumbs lightly across her cheeks. “I know we were both in kind of a vulnerable place last night. I know we haven’t known each other very long, and if this is all too fast I completely respect that, but I—I’d like...well.” He cleared his throat, trying to find the right balance in what he wanted to say. “I want to stay your friend, first and foremost. If you’re open to exploring more than that, then...I’d like to. I’d really like to take you out and spend more time with you. But it’s completely up to you. If you don’t want that, or you’re not ready for that, then I’ll respect that, I promise. And if you need some space to think about it, that’s okay too.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” she said quietly, squeezing his knee. “I’d like to go out with you sometime.”

“Yeah?” he smiled. “How about being my date to Jagged’s New Year’s Eve party? It’s in one of the buildings off of Time Square, it should have a great view.”

“That sounds fun, but...maybe we could do something a little quieter between now and then?” Marinette said, nudging her nose against his. “Lunch maybe?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule, but that sounds great.” He pressed forward and kissed her lightly. “But maybe you better pick the place.”

“Definitely,” Marinette giggled. “I am _not_ eating diner food.”

Luka chuckled and kissed her again, and cuddled her close against his side. Marinette laid her head on his shoulder. “ _Joyeux Noël_ , Luka.”

He smiled. “ _Joyeux Noël_ , Marinette.”


	19. 30. Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things you wish would end never do, and some things you want to go on forever have to come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone so much for your support and comments this month! I didn't quite get all the prompts, but I got quite a lot and I'm feeling very accomplished. This is the last one, which I just didn't quite finished in time because I wanted it to be happy and it's just kind of...not. So I'm sorry to end on a bit of a somber tone, but I'll hopefully see you in the New Year with new works!

The good part of the whole city being paralyzed during Miracle Queen’s attack was that there were no cameras. No news crews to record everything that went down. Even the heroes under Miracle Queen’s control remembered nothing, having woken up after the cure in the exact same place they’d been when they left.

For the sake of the secrets of the Miraculous, that was a good thing. But it did make things difficult for Ladybug.

Then again...what else was new.

Ladybug looked around slowly at the gathered heroes. Chat stood beside her, as always. The rest stood in a half-circle around her, faces solemn. She’d made the rounds this morning, handing out the Miraculous, and directed everyone to meet here at this time. It had taken her some work to find a location that would be both private, and close enough to public transit to let them get home as their civilian selves. Because her mission today was to stand there and tell them that their days as heroes were over. 

She felt she owed them this moment, this explanation. A chance to be angry.

A chance to say goodbye.

She took a deep breath. “So that’s the situation,” Ladybug finished. “Hawkmoth knows your identities, which means he can find your families, your loved ones. For your own safety and the safety of everyone you care about...this will be the last time you wear the Miraculous.” 

Ladybug flinched as the protests erupted. She looked at the ground for a moment, and then back up. Only Viperion stood silent, arms folded. He met her gaze when she looked at him, and the look in his eyes was so familiar that she half thought they were blue for an instant.

She looked away and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry,” Ladybug said, loud enough to interrupt all the others, who all silenced to look at her. “I want you to know this is my failure, not any of yours. You’ve all served admirably and I’m very grateful.” Ladybug took a deep breath. “I wanted to give you all this opportunity to reveal yourselves if you choose, so that you can have the support of each other. I won’t force anyone, though. You can detransform now, or you can go back home and I’ll come to retrieve the Miraculous later.” She chewed her lip for a second, and Chat put a hand on her shoulder. “I hope and believe it’s completely unnecessary to say this, but...please don’t make me take it back by force,” she said quietly. “I know this is upsetting and a shock, but I believe this to be the only feasible course of action.”

The protests started up again, when suddenly Viperion’s voice cut across them all, calm as always, but strong. “Sass, scales rest.”

All the heroes turned to look dumbfounded at him as the light engulfed him, changing his colors from teal and gold to blue and black. “Luka!” Rena gasped.

“Sass,” Luka said, cupping his hands to let the kwami rest in them. “It seems our time is up, my friend.” 

“It hasss been an honor, Luka Couffaine,” Sass said solemnly. “None know what the future holdsss, not even sssuch as we. But if this is the last time we are fated to meet—then I am glad to have known you.” Luka lowered his head and touched his forehead to the little snake’s. Sass gave him a quick pat. Then Luka let Sass take off, and slipped the bracelet off his wrist. The little kwami disappeared in a flash, and Luka blew out a slow, slightly shaky breath. Then he made a little noise through his nose, almost like a chuckle, and turned his gaze on Ladybug. 

She straightened as he approached her, tensing, though there was nothing but compassion in his face. Luka picked up her hand and placed the bangle in her palm, closing her fingers over it and holding her hand a moment between both of his. “Thank you for trusting me,” he said, holding her gaze. “You’ve given everything to serve this city, and we’ve always trusted you to do the right thing, to do what is necessary. If you think this is best, then I trust you in that as well. Please take care of him.” 

Ladybug brought her hand up to cover his. “Thank you, Luka.” 

He nodded, gave her hands one more squeeze, and let them slide out of his, and then walked back to his place in the semicircle. “If anyone wants to talk,” Luka shrugged, “The gang plank’s always open.” He smiled at Ladybug. “That includes you and Chat too, Ladybug.” 

Carapace gave a heavy sigh. “Wayzz, shell off.” Distantly Ladybug heard Chat suck in his breath in surprise.

“Carapace, no!” Rena hissed, but Carapace, now Nino, shook his head. 

“Luka’s right, dudes.” He looked at Wayzz. “Isn’t he.”

Wayzz nodded. “It is unfortunate, but as long as the threat of Hawkmoth remains, this is for the best. It has been my honor to serve.” He bowed his head, and then lifted his little flipper to meet Nino’s offered fistbump. Nino slipped off his bracelet, and took it to Ladybug.

One by one, the others stepped forth. Kim gave a heavy sigh as he returned Xuppu’s headband; as the newest hero, his service had been the shortest. But he gave the Miraculous up with a smile, and then shoved his hands in his pockets as he went back to stand beside Max. 

“Thank you all,” Ladybug smiled. “And I’m sorry that I let you down.”

“You didn’t,” Luka spoke up. “Never. You’ve always done your best for us, Ladybug. Anyone can hand out a Miraculous. Chloe proved that. But what she didn’t have was your mindset. Your selflessness and your strategy. She gave commands, but she didn’t _lead_ , and that’s why she failed. The ones responsible for that are Hawkmoth and Chloe. You’ve already done more than anyone could have asked of you. It pains me that now you have to face him alone.” He tilted his head slightly and smiled. “But you’re never really alone, are you?” He turned his eyes to Chat. “Take care of her for us, Chat Noir. Take care of each other.” Luka looked back at the group of former heroes. “And we’ll do the same, right?” 

They all nodded. 

Ladybug looked at Alya. “I know it’s tempting to publish all of this now that it’s all over, but I really think it would be best if your identities continue to remain a secret outside this group.”

Alya sighed, shoulders slumping, and then straightened, folding her arms. “I understand, Ladybug.” She leaned on Nino. “Probably nobody would believe me anyway,” she muttered. 

“Well,” Ladybug looked at Chat, who nodded. “Chat and I will leave you now.” She hesitated. “I don’t want to say goodbye so...let me say instead, I’ll see you around.” She threw the yoyo, and heard Chat’s baton hit the ground behind her just as she lifted off. They paused on a rooftop some distance away.

“You handled that well,” Chat said, touching her shoulder. “I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Thanks,” Ladybug sighed. “No offense, Chat but—I think I just want to go home now.”

“Sure,” he gave a gentle smile. “Get some rest. You look tired, Ladybug.”

Ladybug mustered one more smile for him, and then swung away.

When Marinette dropped through her skylight. She went to the Miracle Box and put the Miraculous carefully away. Then she curled up on her chaise and let her head rest on her knees. “Do you think they’ll be okay? The thought that one of them might be akumatized over this makes me ill.” 

“I think they’ll be all right,” Tikki said, patting Marinette’s cheek lightly. “That was gently done, and they have each other now. But if it happens, we’ll just have to deal with it. Hopefully Hawkmoth is still licking his wounds.” 

“Like we are?” Marinette grunted, sighing. Tikki cuddled up to her neck with a matching sigh. 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there when there was a knock on her trapdoor.

“Come in,” she called listlessly, and she hadn’t thought about it hard enough to have an expectation as to who would come through, but she was surprised anyway.

“Luka?”

“Hi,” he smiled. “May I come up?”

“Of course,” she said, straightening up and putting her feet on the floor. “What do you need?” 

The question made him hunch his shoulders as if embarrassed. “Just company. I had some hard choices to make today, and I could just...use somewhere quiet to sit. Maybe with somebody else that had a rough day?”

“How’d you know?” Marinette asked ruefully, scooting over just a little and patting the chaise. 

“Lucky guess,” Luka replied, coming over to sit down next to her. “Though it seems like the odds were in my favor. You’ve been having a lot of rough days lately.” 

Marinette chose not to answer that, and instead tilted her head. “You don’t have your guitar.” 

“Yeah, I left it at home,” Luka sighed, spreading his empty hands. “I had, uh...something else to do, and it would have been awkward to take it.” 

“Are you going to be okay without it?” Marinette teased.

“I will, as long as you’re here,” he said simply, and Marinette found herself blushing. “Besides,” he added, nudging her with his shoulder. “I’m not completely dependent on it. I always have my voice.” 

“You don’t use it much,” Marinette said, giving into temptation and leaning her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her shoulders immediately and leaned into her, like he had just been waiting for her to make the first move. 

She kind of hated herself for moving closer, cuddling up to his side and putting her arms around his waist. Every time she did this she told herself she wasn’t being fair to him, yet he always welcomed her, and never said a word about it afterwards. He always accepted exactly as much as she was willing to give him. 

Except today. Today he wrapped his arms around her too and curled up around her, pressing his face into her hair. 

“Luka?” she said wonderingly. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I just...I think I need this today. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Marinette said, snuggling closer. “Of course, Luka. You’re always here for me. I’m here for you too.”

He sighed. “I don’t want to make things harder on you. You have so much to deal with already.” 

“So do you.”

He made a little noise that wasn’t agreement, and let it drop.

“Can I ask what you’re thinking about?” Marinette asked. 

Luka’s thoughtful hum came from his chest; she felt it through her whole body. “Endings,” he said at last. “How some things end and you wish they wouldn’t; and some things you wish would be over with just never seem to end.”

“Tell me about it,” sighed Marinette. 

He made that same hum again. “If you could end one thing, what would it be?”

Marinette thought about all the things weighing on her mind; Lila and Hawkmoth and Chat and the Miraculous wielders and Chloe. There were so many things weighing her down. If she could only stop one…

“Secrets,” she whispered. “I wish I could stop having to keep secrets.”

“I can see how that would be hard,” Luka murmured. He squeezed her a little tighter. “I can keep your secrets safe, Marinette. If you ever need me to.” 

“I know,” Marinette let herself smile, a little. “Some of them you already do.” 

He sighed, and his breath on her neck made her shiver. “I wish I could do more. I’m always afraid you’ll need me and I won’t be there. I’d be sick if anything happened to you.”

Marinette blinked, and snuggled closer. “I’m okay, Luka.”

“Yeah,” he said, and his voice was heavy. “I know. I know, Marinette. You’re strong and brilliant and you can do this. I just hate that I can’t be there for you.” 

Marinette frowned and pulled back a little to look at him. “Luka, are you...are you leaving? Are you going somewhere?”

He smiled at her, unfolding just enough to cradle her cheek in his hand. “No. Even if I can’t be there for you the way I want to, I’ll always be here for you however _you_ want me to. I’ll be okay, I promise, I just...need to work some stuff out, I guess. Is it okay if I stay a little longer?”

Marinette nodded, and his fingers slipped back to guide her head back down to his shoulder. He curled back around her and held her, and didn’t say anything more.


End file.
